


Star Wars Episode IX: Light Between Stars

by GeneralSan_3



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Finnrey, Fluff and Angst, I'm trying to figure out if I ship Reylo or Finnrey by writing this, Lots of both, Reylo - Freeform, also I'm working out some Padme and Shmi feels, cuz right now I ship both and it hurts, plus I feel like Ben needs to brush up on his family history, who both belong in the category of ppl who deserve to be mentioned in the sequels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-02-27 20:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 31,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13255599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeneralSan_3/pseuds/GeneralSan_3
Summary: Rey and what remains of the Resistance flee from the First Order, scrambling to find allies in a galaxy that seems shrouded in darkness. She and Finn seek to reignite their kinship, but their closeness is threatened by the secrets that she cannot seem to give up.Meanwhile, Kylo Ren has everything that he ever wanted - power, dominance, control. But the harder he struggles to kill the past, the more it rises up to confront him.Just some thoughts on how Episode IX might go. Nothing graphic, either violence, sex, or language.Enjoy!





	1. The Ones We Lost

Flames burned under a sky full of stars, the clear white smoke disappearing into the night. The mourners gathered close, silently supporting one another. In the daytime, this place was beautiful, a mansion carved from golden stone overlooking a glimmering lake and verdant fields rolling away on every side. In the darkness, it all looked flat and grey.

Rey turned away, blinking back tears, her throat raw and her eyes swollen. She walked to the back of the crowd, off the stone pavilion and onto the dark grass beyond. She saw Poe’s gaze follow her, but she waved a hand to indicate that she was ok. She wanted to be alone.

Or at least, as alone as she could be.

_ He _ was there, waiting. Of course he was. He might be a monster, but this was his mother’s funeral.

She slammed down her defences immediately, silently cursing herself for not anticipating this. But not quickly enough - not before she felt him reaching out, raw with the pain of loss, an outstretched hand even more desperate and needy than the one he had extended onboard Snoke’s ship, after they had fought side by side.

Just before he betrayed her.

_ Leave me alone! _ She shot the words at him soundlessly, with the speed of a blaster bolt.  _ Leave us all alone. _ She didn’t know if he could hear the words, but she could feel his reaction to the violent emotion lancing through her.  _ Haven’t you done enough harm? _

He didn’t reply for a long moment, but when he did, it was not what she expected. “Do you know why Leia wanted to be buried here - on Naboo?” His voice, coming from Force knows how many lightyears away, had no business reverberating in her bones like that.

Rey glanced around at the gathered mourners, but nobody apart from herself could hear him. Even to her eyes, he was little more than a shadow at the edge of the light thrown by the funeral pyre.  _ He knows where we are. We’re in danger. _

“This is an old family country home,” he continued. “Belonging to my real grandmother’s family. The Naberrie family.”

Her interest was caught in spite of herself, but she refused to speak. She knew that he wanted her to, although why he was sharing this tidbit of family history with her was a mystery. She glanced around and saw Rose watching, a line between her eyebrows.  _ I have to warn them that we’re not safe here. _

“It took her years of searching to find her mother’s name,” he continued. “She cried, when she found out. Said that she had known, years before, when she had seen a portrait of Padmé Amidala in the royal palace at Theed.”

He paused, and she wanted to turn away and retreat back into the firelight. But she didn’t move.

“I was six,” he continued, then his voice broke off, ragged at the edges.

Rey took a step closer in spite of herself. He looked up at her, and the moonlight caught the planes of his face in sharp relief. She frowned in spite of herself - he looked even paler than usual, thinner, with dark pouches under his sunken eyes, and there were new seams of pain on either side of his mouth.

“If you don’t start taking care of yourself, the Resistance won’t have to worry about you for much longer,” she grumbled.

“What a relief for everyone concerned,” he said lightly. A tight smile creased the corners of his mouth. “I haven’t been sleeping much lately.”

She shoved down the worry that rose in her throat and stepped back, head held high. “You have no right to be here, and no right to be in my head. Get out.” She felt his eyes watching her as she stepped back up to Poe’s side. He put a comforting arm around her shoulder, swiping at the tears streaking his own face. When she looked around again, Ben was gone.

  
  


Kylo Ren opened his eyes and let out a sigh. He was back in his room, sitting on the edge of the bed. But not alone.

Luke rose from the corner as soon as he saw Kylo return to himself, and folded his arms, one eyebrow raised. “You went to the funeral, didn’t you? After everything I said?”

“I’m not interested in another lecture,” Kylo growled, throwing himself back onto the bed and pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes, hard enough that light sparked and pinwheeled across his eyelids. “You’re worse than Snoke ever was.”

“Of course I am,” Luke said. He grunted as he lowered himself onto the edge of the bed. “I’m your uncle. I’m worse than any Sith Lord.”

“Why are you here?” Kylo lifted his hands, the better to glare at the misty, blue-edged apparition looking down at him. “I never asked for anything from you - I want you to  _ leave _ !” Rage bubbled inside of him, hot and alive. He leaped to his feet and called his lightsaber into his hand from across the room. The red, spitting blade snapped into existence, and he descended on the room with a howl of fury, reducing everything to rubble with crushing swipes. Smoke filled the room, and an alarm began to beep.

Luke watched calmly, hands folded in his sleeves.

When Kylo was exhausted, dripping sweat, he dropped back onto the remains of his bed, the lightsaber falling from his nerveless fingers. Only then did Luke speak.

“You may not believe this, but I have a purpose other than tormenting you. Although I admit that it’s fun.”

Kylo lifted his head to glare at the ghost of his once-revered mentor. “Go to hell.”

Luke’s head tilted thoughtfully. “I think that’s where we already are, kiddo.”

The familiar old endearment stung Kylo like a Kamino saberdart, but he refused to give Luke the satisfaction of letting him see that the missile had reached its mark. Gritting his teeth, he rolled out of the bed, shook back his hair, and stalked out the door. Two stormtroopers fell in behind him, and he snarled over his shoulder, “Prepare my ship.”

_ It’s time to visit the family estate, _ he thought.


	2. Reunited

The Resistance left Naboo the morning after the funeral and set their course for a much smaller, much less aesthetically-pleasing planet. Rey had never heard of it before, but as soon as they touched down she caught a familiar whiff of dust and desperation that she had hoped never to scent again.

“Tatooine,” C3-P0 said over her shoulder as she lowered the ramp and stared out over the flat, featureless plain. “Someone recently informed me that I was created here - I can hardly believe it.”

“Yeah,” Rey agreed, breath halting in her chest. “Doesn’t seem possible.”

The remaining members of the Resistance bustled around, hauling boxes of aging equipment and setting up shelters among natural rock formations rearing up nearby. Rey stepped out of the way, but she couldn’t take her eyes away from the planet they had landed on. The vista spread before her, so alien and yet so familiar, stirred up memories. Scavenging for scraps on Jakku, hunger and thirst, sand scouring her skin and caking her eyelashes. She shuddered, a deep voice echoing in her mind.

_ Have you always known? _

She shook her head, trying to blank out the sound. But the memory played out nonetheless.

_ They were filthy junk traders. Traded you for drinking money. _

Rey’s vision blurred, and she blinked rapidly to clear away the tears. She knew who her parents were. Of course she did. But she had hoped that there was more to the story.

She reached into the pocket of her tunic and pulled out two twisted metal cylinders. The pieces of Luke’s old lightsaber, the one that had been torn in two during those final moments after she had refused to step into the dark with Ben . . . Kylo Ren. She really needed to stop thinking of him as Ben.

Why had the lightsaber called to her, if she was nothing?

A friendly voice interrupted her musing. She glanced around to see Lieutenant Kaydel Connix, her twin buns gilded by sunlight, looking around.

“We just received a transmission from the scouting party,” she said, throwing a smile at Rey. “He’s on his way home.”

Rey nodded thanks, a new emotion bubbling up inside her chest. She turned back to the desert vista, heart thudding audibly in her chest. There hadn’t been much time, since the disastrous battle on Crait, for her to spend time with the former stormtrooper Finn. She had been focused on shuttling the surviving members of the Resistance from safe haven to safe haven, and Finn had been sent away - General Organa’s last real act as the leader - in an effort to drum up support from their allies. So far, his reports had been disheartening . . . but she was glad that he was coming back to stay this time. She felt more stable with him around, grounded.

She bit her lip and brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She had taken to wearing her hair down recently, and she was still unused to the feel of it sweeping across her bare shoulders.

The whine of repulsorlifts drifted across the sky, and she glanced around anxiously. There it was - a small, boxy ship, gliding across the dirty grey sky towards their makeshift base. It settled down a few yards away from the  _ Millenium Falcon _ , and a moment later the ramp lowered with the squeaking of aging hydraulics.

Rey leaped from the  _ Falcon _ ’s loading ramp, narrowly avoiding collision with a pair of techs struggling under the weight of a radar system, and was running before her feet hit the ground.

Finn stepped blinking into the light of Tatooine’s two suns, dark skin already glistening with sweat, and saw her as she pelted towards him.

“Rey!” His eyes widened and a grin spread across his face. He hurried towards her, and she flung herself at him. His arms closed around her, hard enough to drive the breath from her lungs, but she didn’t mind. She squeezed her eyes closed, buried her face into the warm leather covering his shoulder, and tightened her grip.

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” she murmured, drawing back far enough to look into his face. “That First Order bounty makes you a target for every lowlife in the system.”

He touched a lock of her hair and smiled. “Have I mentioned that I like your hair like that?” he said.

Heat rose into her cheeks and she brushed the hair behind her ear. “I think you did, yeah,” she said. She released him and stepped back, smiling at the ground.

“Boy,” Finn said, scanning the horizon. “This reminds me unpleasantly of Jakku. We’re not staying for long, right?”

“We don’t stay anywhere for long, these days,” she sighed. The ache in her chest was still there from the funeral, only slightly eased by the sight of her first friend. Closest friend.

_ Or is he the closest, now? _ A small voice wondered inside of her her. She shoved the thought away and turned her attention back to Finn. His grin was as wide as ever, and he tucked a companionable arm around her shoulders as they turned to walk to the  _ Falcon _ . She gripped him around the waist and enjoyed the closeness in silence for a moment.

“How is Poe enjoying being in command?” Finn’s eyes sparkled as he glanced around the hastily-erected base. “Where’s Rose?”

“He’s a hotshot pilot, command is killing him,” Rose said, stepping into view from behind a half-gutted speeder and smiling at Finn. “He’s looking for any excuse to get back into the cockpit, but we’ve barely got any working ships or men to crew them.”

“Every other day he comes up with some brilliant, not-at-all-doomed-to-fail plan to bring the First Order to their knees,” Rey groaned, sharing a commiserating glance with Rose.

Finn chuckled. “Sounds like the Poe I know and love,” he said.

They entered the  _ Millenium Falcon _ to a general chorus of greetings. A dark-haired man jumped to his feet when he saw them, a smile brightening his handsome face.

“Finn! Buddy!” Poe trotted forward, BB-8 beeping enthusiastically at his heels, and pulled the other man into a tight embrace. “You’re back  _ just _ in time!”

Rose rolled her eyes, exchanging a knowing glance with Rey. “Right on schedule,” she whispered.

Both she and Rey mouthed along as Poe said, “I have a plan to bring the First Order down.”

  
  


The  _ Upsilon- _ class transport emerged from hyperspace next to Naboo, its raptor-like wings extending outwards. Kylo had never named his ship - that kind of folly belonged to lesser men, to weaker men.

He spiraled down through the atmosphere to land at the main spaceport in the capital city, Theed. Cowed officials offered to come greet him, but he dismissed their hospitality.

Before he landed, he already knew that his quarry was gone. Her presence was a fading glow, like perfume in the air.

He should turn around immediately, return to the fleet, and locate their next landing point. There was nothing on this planet that he needed to see.

He hesitated, then hit the controller and the ramp lowered with a  _ hiss _ .

Twenty minutes later, he stood before the tomb, hands tucked around himself as if to ward off a chill, head bowed. Winter was just releasing its hold on the city, and the wind tousled his hair and bit at his nose and ears.

Leia Organa had no tomb. She had been cremated and her ashes scattered in the Solleu river, as was customary for Nabooians. This tomb had another name on it altogether. He reached for the handle, hesitated.

The thundering of the water was muted suddenly. He glanced around, and there she was. She was seated on the ground, chewing thoughtfully on some rations, and she met his eyes with defiance and a hint of resignation. She set her rations aside and rose to her feet. Her eyes narrowed, and he felt her focusing, trying to distinguish his surroundings.

“You’re on Naboo,” she said thoughtfully. “Too slow, Ben. We left hours ago.”

He stepped closer, looming over her. She glared and stood her ground. “But you’ve already made planetfall,” he murmured, focusing intently on her. The bright light reflecting off her nose and cheeks, the sheen of sweat on her face and shoulders. Her face was already reddening under its tan. “On some hot, dry planet. There’s only one within a day’s travel, and I know it well - Tatooine.”

She sighed, her eyes narrowing. “Are you going to keep following us around like a nightwatcher worm chasing its tail?”

“It does seem pointless, doesn’t it?” he murmured. “Seeing how pathetic the Resistance is. Now that Luke Skywalker is dead, none of you poses any real threat to my new order.”

“We’re nothing but a spark,” she countered, glaring up at him. There was none of the softness there, the gentle way she had looked at him on Snoke’s ship.

_ She wanted something from you, fool, _ he snarled at himself.  _ And she didn’t get it. Now she doesn’t have to pretend to care whether you live or die. _

“Still, I have been wanting to visit Tatooine again,” he said thoughtfully, amused by how dread shot through her emotions at his words. “That is where my grandfather was born, after all.”

“Grandfather?” she repeated, tilting her head curiously, her mind chasing his thoughts. “Darth Vader?” She came back to herself and stared at him, eyes wide. “Well - that explains a lot.”

“I know everything about Darth Vader,” he said, by way of explanation. “I made it my business to find out when Leia finally told me the truth about my family. She hid it from me until fate forced her hand.”

“She wanted to protect you,” Rey said quietly.

Kylo snorted indelicately, his upper lip twitching up into a sneer. He whirled away, the cold breeze hitting his face like a slap. He was glad to fight with her - he had been feeling raw and wounded, and anger was bringing his strength back like a suit of armor.

“No, what she wanted was to stifle me, keep me chained to the weakness of the light. Through Vader’s example, I have learned  _ everything _ about power. His triumphs, his abilities - his greatest failure.”

Rey nodded in understanding. “Falling to the Dark Side.”

Kylo had to smile at her naivety. “No! That was the moment his true potential was revealed. His greatest weakness was his love for . . . Luke Skywalker. It ultimately led to his downfall.” He turned towards her again. “I will not make the same mistakes.”

She met his eyes, and that gentleness was back. Something deep inside of his iron-clad soul quivered, waiting,  _ longing, _ and he hated himself for it.

“Love is not weakness,” she stated. Her eyes darted away for a moment, as if she were looking at something or someone that he could not see. “Hate will burn out eventually, but love never falters.”

“Is that what Han Solo taught you?” he sneered, taking pleasure in riling her, in the way that her eyes flashed and color rose onto her face when she was angry. “His love was constant, sure . . . love for smuggling, that is. Not so much for his family.”

“Leia taught me that,” she said quietly. “She would have taught you, too, if you had let her.”

“You should be glad that she and I did not meet again,” he snapped. “Or she would have met the same fate as Han Solo.”  _ Except you had the chance, fool, and you didn’t take it _ , some treacherous voice at the back of his mind growled. It sounded like Snoke.  _ You could have blown her into smithereens, and you faltered like a frightened child. _

The hardness was back in Rey’s eyes. “I have to go,” she said abruptly, shoving past him and stalking away.

He let her go until she was nothing more than a shadow across the back of his mind, and turned back to the mausoleum he had come all this way to see.


	3. Shades of the Past

“Rey?” Finn’s voice was loud, with worry beginning to creep in at the edges. “Rey, what’s wrong?”

She turned to see that he was following her as she stalked through the sand, heading for the edge of camp. “I just need some time to think,” she called back to him, but she found her steps slowing, allowing him to catch up to her.

“Poe told us not to go wandering into the desert, especially at night,” he reminded her. “There are dangerous creatures out there.”

“Good,” she snapped. “I feel like killing something.”

He gulped audibly, but kept pace as she stormed down the side of a dune. She was so incensed that she nearly stumbled, only her trusty quarterstaff keeping her from falling onto her face. The suns were low on the horizon, and the shadows were lengthening, growing cold. They walked in silence for a while, Finn jumping at every shadow, his hand on the blaster tucked into his belt.

Finally, he couldn’t take the silence any longer. “Ugh, it’s freezing already,” he complained. “I thought deserts were supposed to be hot.”

“Go back then,” she growled.

“Ha!” He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you alone, not in this mood. Not until I’m sure you’re safe.”

She threw him a look of deep disgust, coming to an abrupt halt. “I can handle myself.”

“Sure, in a fight.” He overshot her by a dozen steps, then turned around and trudged back to her side. “This is something else, I don’t know what it is, and I’m worried about you.”

With more force than was strictly necessary, she jabbed the butt of her quarterstaff into the sand, so that it stuck straight up like a flagpole, and sat cross legged next to it. Finn hesitated, then sank down next to her, pulling off his jacket and draping it over both of them. She had left her jacket back at camp, and was shivering in her light tunic. He was right, she was acting like a hurt child, and her actions might have put them both into danger, but she could not face going back to camp with so many conflicting emotions warring inside her chest.

She glanced around to see that Finn was watching her. She frowned, wanting to reprimand him, but something in his eyes stopped her. Instead, she met his eyes and reflected on how much more comfortable this was than staring into Ben’s twisted soul.

“Something’s different . . .” He gazed closer at her, expression soft but intent. “You’ve changed, somehow. And not just the hair.”

“Have I?” She tried to make her tone light and did not quite succeed. “Maybe this is what I’m actually like. We’re still pretty much strangers, after all.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I know you. Something’s happened.” He hesitated. “Is it some kind of . . . Jedi thing?”

Too close for comfort. She shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He nodded, but she could see that he was still ruminating on the thought. For a minute or two, they sat in silence that made her teeth ache.

“So tell me,” he said, shifting closer until they were pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, his hand folding around hers. “What was Skywalker like? Did the legends do him justice?”

One part of her wanted to snatch her hand back, but instead her fingers tightened around his. “He - wasn’t what I was expecting,” she managed. “That’s what I get for believing in fairy tales, I suppose.”

He tilted his head to regard her. “What do you mean?”

“I - I failed,” she said, voice creaking shamefully mid-syllable. She scrubbed traitorous tears out of her eyes and stared unseeingly at the distant horizon. The suns were all but set now, nothing but a fiery glow on the undersides of the clouds to indicate that they had ever existed. “I tried to bring Skywalker to help the Resistance, but I couldn’t convince him to come.”  _ Couldn’t convince Ben, either _ , she thought but did not say. She dropped her chin down onto her crossed arms, letting a breath out slowly through her nose. She hated that she had let Ben’s taunting get to her.

“But he  _ did _ come, Rey!” Finn’s mouth widened into his familiar gleeful grin, his eyes half-focused on her and half on something in the distance, something both wonderful and terrible. “Oh, you should have seen it. It was amazing. He took on the entire First Order by himself, and kicked Kylo Ren’s butt all over the field.”

She stiffened at the mention of that dangerous name, her gaze shifting out over the dunes to where a black shape stood, outlined against the stars, but he wasn’t paying attention to her. His attention was focused elsewhere, and he was . . . angry? Upset? She pulled her thoughts away from him and back to Finn, who was still speaking. Something about Rose.

“The truth is, I’m not a hero.” He ducked his head, turning slightly away from her. “If we had just trusted Leia and Holdo, we wouldn’t have lost all the people in those transports.”

“Hey,” Rey said, clasping his hand tightly and putting one hand on his cheek to turn him back towards her. “You can’t blame yourself for that. There’s no way you could have known.”

“If I had the Force, I could,” he scoffed, but he smiled and met her eyes. “That’s why you’re so amazing - you have so much potential, and you already mean so much to all of us.”

“The Force doesn’t make you infallible,” she muttered. Ben was still there, a black shape looming in the corner of her eye, quiet for now, but impossible to ignore. His presence deadened sounds, sensations. Every moment, her consciousness was drawing closer to his, as if they were magnets. She only knew that she was still on Tatooine by the feeling of Finn’s hand still clasped around hers.

Finn was watching her again, waiting, not pressing. She opened her mouth, wanting to tell someone,  _ anyone _ , the truth about what had happened on Ahch-to, on Snoke’s ship. Her arm brushed the pocket where the twisted remnants of Luke Skywalker’s old lightsaber still lay. She looked around to meet Finn’s gaze, opening her mouth to speak.

But she couldn’t. He wouldn’t understand. He hated the First Order, and if he knew the truth, he would hate her too. He would never understand how the Force Bond gave her the ability to understand Ben almost as deeply as she understood herself. How she could feel the conflict ripping him apart underneath that cold, aloof facade. Finn would insist that Kylo Ren was manipulating her, that there was no hope for someone who had done the things he had done.

“Rey?” Finn prompted, a line appearing between his eyebrows.

She stared back at him, mouth hanging open, crushed between the looming presence of someone who had once been Ben Solo and Finn’s soft, loving gaze.  _ He already made his choice! _ something in her cried out.  _ Why do I still feel this way? _

“Finn,” she whispered, tears blurring her vision.

“Hey, hey,” he sighed, pulling her close and dropping his forehead to rest against hers, one hand brushing against her cheek. She breathed in, closing her eyes to the dark and focusing instead on the warm light blossoming inside her.

At that moment, a comm buzzed, loudly. Finn jumped two feet in the air, releasing Rey, who nearly toppled over. He pulled the comm from out of his pocket and gasped out, “Uh - yes?”

_ “Hey, where are you two nerfs?” _ Rose’s voice crackled from the comm.  _ “Poe is doing his nut. You know we aren’t supposed to leave camp at night!” _

Finn grimaced at Rey, but she could see a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Jedi business, Rose,” he said breezily. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Rose huffed heavily, giving the impression that a hurricane was brewing back at camp.  _ “Whatever. Just get back here as soon as you can.” _

“On our way,” he responded, dropping the comm back into his pocket. He winked at Rey.

Rey couldn’t help but smile in response. A faint wistfulness twisted in her chest, longing for that easy rapport, the camaraderie she sensed between Finn and Rose.

“Feel better?” he murmured, and she hummed agreement. She hauled him to his feet, and they retraced their steps hand in hand.

  
  


Kylo could feel Rey’s anger dissolving into something warmer and gentler, but he kept his distance, focusing instead on what was physically around him.

He traced the symbol carved in relief on the stone sarcophagus, eyes drifting over the silent mausoleum. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement, and glanced around quickly. His fingers stilled their restless movement. Had the figure in the stained-glass window just . . .  _ looked _ at him? Impossible, and yet he swore he had seen the face turn to regard him with a thoughtful gaze.

He strode closer to inspect it more closely. Up close, it certainly didn’t seem unusual. A stylized portrait of a dark-haired woman in a blue dress, her dark hair pulled up in an elaborate hairstyle, eyes gazing steadily straight into his soul.  _ Padmé Amidala _ , the stone-carved legend told him.

There was still some confusion as to what, exactly, had transpired to cause Anakin Skywalker to turn irrevocably from the Jedi and join Darth Sidious - the turmoil of that time, the shifting of power, the purges, made exact recordkeeping uncertain. All that Kylo knew was that when the dust cleared, Padmé Amidala was dead, and so - everyone had assumed - were the twin children she was carrying.

_ If only _ , he muttered internally.  _ Palpatine should have done better at wiping out his entire family. That’s the only way to ensure there are no attachments luring him back to the Light. _

_ Just as I have no family left. It’s safer that way. _

His hand hovered over the coffin and he frowned. There was something . . . a familiar presence, just a trace of it. Calling on the Force for strength, he shoved at the stone lid of the coffin, and it slid aside, crashing to the floor and splitting in half. He ignored the noise, feeling instead for that sensation he could feel, like the tickle of a feather.

Inside was nothing much interesting, just mouldering bones and hair, the fragments of a blue dress. And there, between the skeletal hands, a small glimmer of white. He reached inside with one black-gloved hand and tore it from her grasp. It dangled on a silver chain, now much-tarnished - a small rectangle of ivory-colored wood, clumsily carved with archaic symbols.

“Vader,” he muttered. That was the presence he sensed - this strange artefact must once have belonged to the Sith Lord, meant something to him. Perhaps there was more to it than met the eye. He tucked it away in his tunic, then turned and strode from the tomb, back into the cold wind.

When he reached his ship once more, he immediately flipped on the comm and hailed the faraway command ship. Once he had delivered the appropriate passcodes, he was answered by a breathless-sounding tech.

_ “Yes sir, what can I do for you?” _

“I’m sending an encoded message to be broadcast to the Outer Rim,” Kylo said. “Maximum power.”

_ “Right away, Supreme Leader _ ,” the tech said respectfully. “ _ Should we expect your return soon? _ ”

“Not yet,” Kylo said through his teeth. “There seems to be more to do here than I expected.”


	4. The Figurehead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has left kudos and comments! I love them :)
> 
> Enjoy more Sassy Uncle Luke! He's my favorite.

Poe’s plan was deceptively simple, and that was what scared Rey.

“We didn’t get any response from our allies when we were under siege on Crait for one simple reason - they think we’ve already lost. But word is spreading about what Luke Skywalker did, and what’s more, they’re talking about  _ you _ , too.” He glanced up at Rey, and she felt her stomach sinking toward her boots.

“Me?” she repeated faintly, glancing around the cargo hold of the Millenium Falcon, where what was left of the Resistance was gathered, lounging around the walls or slumped onto anything that was remotely seat-like. “What about me?”

“Come on,” Poe said, grinning. “You know what. Luke was the last of the Jedi - or so everyone thought. But now  _ you’re  _ here! There’s hope after all.”

“I - guess,” Rey said, trying to disguise the terror that she felt. “But how is that going to help? I’ve had less than a day’s worth of Jedi training . . .”

Rose chimed in, eyes twinkling at Rey. “We don’t need to spread that little fact around. Nobody really wants to meet their heroes. Right, Finn?” She dug her elbow into his side, and he winced loudly.

“Rose has a point,” a black-haired woman said, stepping forward and surveying Rey critically. “The last thing the Resistance needs is another fiasco like Crait. We need to show the galaxy that we are strong and united. I’m not confident that placing that burden on young Rey’s untested shoulders - no offense to her - is the best way forward.”

“Now wait a minute.” Finn rose from his seat on a storage crate, eyes narrowed on the woman’s face. “Rey has  _ definitely  _ been tested. Who did you say you were?”

The woman’s eyes flickered aside towards Finn, then back to Poe. “Greer Sonnel,” she said patiently. “I’ve served as General Organa’s pilot for nine years, and I’ve seen the tides turn many times. This is a critical moment, and we need to act decisively.”

“I agree,” Poe stated. “What we need is a demonstration. Loud, public, a spit in the new Supreme Leader’s eye.”

Involuntarily, Rey glanced around, but  _ he _ was nowhere to be seen.

“Captain, that’s not  _ quite  _ what I -” Greer said, frowning.

“Commander,” Poe returned. “Leia reinstated my rank. The highest we have left, unfortunately.” He eyed Greer, then said more gently, “We all want to honor her memory, Chief Sonnel. But I know that she would tell us to place our trust in the brightest hope that we have left - and that hope  _ is _ Rey. I believe that.”

He nodded to Rey, and she blinked back tears and nodded back. Thoughtful murmurs ran all over the room, and almost everyone present nodded agreement. Greer Sonnel bit her lip, but she stepped back and watched silently.

“So what is this big demonstration you’re planning?” Lieutenant Connix asked, a smile in her voice. “I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say we’re dying to hear it.”

“Well,” Poe began, and the reluctance in his voice made the hairs on Rey’s arms stand up. He glanced at Finn. “This is where it gets messy, unfortunately. BB-8?” He glanced around, and a second later the small, orange-and-white droid rolled into the room, beeping excitedly. “Go on, do your stuff,” Poe said with a grin.

BB-8 nearly crushed some toes in its excitement, racing to the center of the room. Rey heard C3-P0 muttering in what it obviously thought was  _ sotto _ voice to R2-D2: “ _ What _ an unseemly display. I certainly would never compromise my dignity in such a way.”

Once he was centered, BB-8 cast a large hologram into the air. It was a large map of a sector that Rey didn’t recognize, but she seemed to be the only one - most of the other people in the room began to mutter again, and she saw Finn start, his eyes wide and staring. She looked more carefully at the holo. A system, labelled UTRAV in Basic, was flashing. BB-8 chirped, and the holo zoomed in rapidly on one planet in the system, a movement that made Rey’s stomach lurch as if her body had actually dropped thousands of lightyears in that instant.

“Poe, this is already looking like your craziest idea,” Rose muttered, a line between her eyebrows. “And that’s saying something.”

The holo stopped and one planet filled half the room, circling lazily. Rey glanced at the legend, but came away none the wiser - all it said was UTRAV IIV, which meant the same amount of nothing to her that the name of the system had.

“I don’t understand,” she said, glancing around. Finn’s jaw was clenched and there was sheen of sweat standing out on his brow. “What is this planet? I’ve never heard of it.”

“Most people haven’t,” Greer said, her coppery skin flushed with something like anger. “Its existence is a secret that the First Order would - and have - killed to protect. Commander Dameron, why are you showing us this . . . abomination?”

“For those of you who haven’t been privy to Resistance briefings until recently,” Poe said, nodding again to Rey, “Utrav IIV is a small, rocky, nearly uninhabitable planet. It rotates extremely slowly - only one rotation every three standard years. The side that is facing the sun is baked by temperatures in the thousands of degrees, and the dark side is cold enough to freeze a person solid within seconds. Naturally,” he said with a quick, bitter smile, “The old Empire saw its potential and set up dozens of mining prisons that tunneled under the surface, as well as one other installation - the one that interests us. BB-8?”

The small droid beeped and the holo zoomed in once more, and a dot on the planet’s surface sprang into sharp relief. It was a forbidding structure, built into the side of a cliff, carved from solid rock, slab-like walls rising sheer with no ornamentation to beautify their starkness.

“This is the university of the Empire,” Poe said with heavy sarcasm. “A factory, for all intents and purposes. Normal children went in -”

Rey felt a chill, and she glanced at Finn. His eyes were squeezed shut and his hands were clenched into fists. She saw his lips moving as if he were whispering - or praying.

“- Stormtroopers came out.”

  
  


The skies of Naboo were blue and almost cloudless, and the sun warmed the palace of golden stone. The people that walked the streets wore bright colors and smiled, laughing and chattering. Spring had returned.

Kylo Ren brought the chill of midwinter wherever he walked. The crowds parted around him as he stalked through the streets, the laughter became hushed, the sun seemed to dim. He had thrown his hood over his head, and kept his face cast down, his eyes flashing up dangerously whenever someone stepped too close. He had started out for the spaceport, but somehow his steps had led him into a different part of town, a quiet residential neighborhood with graceful houses covered in flowering vines. He glanced around with a shudder of disgust, then his steps slowed and halted. He was no longer alone.

Luke glanced at the pendant dangling against his chest. “I like your new necklace,” he said. “It suits you.”

Kylo groaned through his teeth and hurried onward. Luke kept pace nonchalantly, eyes drifting around the lovely city appreciatively. He let out a low whistle as they crested a hill and the skyline of Theed appeared outlined before the sky.

“I can see why your mother wanted to be buried here,” he murmured. “Stunning.”

“Leave me alone,” Kylo hissed. People who had been edging around him actually broke and ran, fleeing from this dark man who spoke to the empty air.

“Are you trying to find your grandmother’s house?” Luke wondered, glancing around thoughtfully. “I think it’s back that way . . . a few streets. It’s a little hazy - I only visited here once or twice. One of my many regrets - you should never be too busy for family.”

“I  _ wish _ you were busy with something else,” Kylo growled. He was almost running now, a dark specter under the sun, his black cloak snapping in the warm breeze. He was sweating, and he knew that his face was going to burn if he didn’t get indoors soon.

Luke kept up a cheerful commentary as they hurried towards the spaceport, noting how Nabooian fashions had changed in the years since he had last visited, comparing Naboo favorably to his own home planet of Tatooine, elaborating on the interesting political structure between the Naboo and the native Gungans, and talking at length about the Naberrie family.

“- it’s a shame you’ve never met your second cousins, Ben,” he said as they turned into the hanger that held Kylo’s sleek black ship. “Or is it first cousins once removed? I can never remember. Anyway, Pooja’s younger son is only a year or two older than you, and he’s -”

Kylo could take no more. He whirled, glaring down from the ramp of the ship. “Is this your plan,  _ uncle _ ? To bore me to death?” He didn’t wait for a reply. “I don’t want you here. I don’t want to know the Naberrie family - as far as I’m concerned, the First Order would be better off bombing this planet from orbit and ridding it of malcontents like Padmé Amidala once and for all.”

Luke’s eyes shone with sadness. “You don’t mean that, Ben,” he whispered.

With a loud scoff, Kylo turned and stalked into the darkness of his ship. Once he was in his room, he threw off his outer robe, belt, and lightsaber, splashed water onto his heated face, and ruthlessly tied his sweaty hair into a knot at the back of his head. When he emerged from the ‘fresher, Luke was waiting. Kylo’s lip curled, but he said nothing apart from:

“I’m going to sleep.”

Luke settled down in the chair. “See you shortly, then,” he said softly.

Kylo was asleep within seconds. Luke watched him silently, hands clenched on his knees. For a while, the young man slept soundly, the lines of exhaustion etched even deeper in sleep.

Then, he began to twitch and stir, muttering, his hands flexing and clenching erratically. He rolled onto his back, sweat beading on his forehead.

“No,” he gasped. “ _ Please. _ ”

Luke watched a tear glisten as it ran down his nephew’s pale face. Slowly, he reached out as if to smooth back the dark hair plastered onto Kylo’s forehead, but his hand halted only inches away. He sat back and ran the hand over his own face instead, wearily, then through his beard.

“No!” Kylo shouted, sitting up, eyes flashing wide. He flung his hand out and his lightsaber flew across the room into his grip. He ignited it and stared around wildly, chest heaving, the red light of the saber reflected crazily in his eyes. He saw Luke and tensed, then slumped back against the wall, deactivating the lightsaber and flinging it down.

Luke waited for a moment, then spoke kindly. “The same nightmare?”

Kylo’s eyes flashed towards the flickering blue figure, then away dismissively. “It’s always the same.” He turned his gaze towards the wall chrono and sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. “Sometimes it’s you, waiting to kill me. Mostly it’s Snoke. Sometimes it’s . . .” His voice faded, and he shook his head. “Weakness. I’ll purge myself of it in due course.” He unfolded himself, rising to his feet, and his eyes flickered closed and he swayed dangerously, almost toppling.

“That’s if the sleep deprivation doesn’t kill you first,” Luke muttered, concern flashing across his face.

“ _ Don’t. _ ” Kylo’s eyes flared open and he pinned Luke under a glare of utter revulsion. “Don’t you dare pity me.”

He turned away, striding away through the ship to to the cockpit. He settled into the pilot’s chair, taking a moment to regain his composure. Then he flicked on the comm and hailed a familiar frequency.

General Hux glanced up when the transmission came through and a brief flash of annoyance colored his white face. He schooled his expression quickly and nodded deferentially. “Supreme Leader, I am glad you finally contacted me. We need -”

Kylo, on the other hand, didn’t trouble to hide his distaste upon seeing the other man. He shook a lock of black hair out of his eyes and interrupted, “You sent the coded transmission, as I ordered?”

Hux’s smile was closer to a grimace, but a spark of curiosity gleamed in his eyes. “Yes. There has been no response.”

Kylo grunted. “There won’t be. Ren out.”

  
  


General Hux waited until the transmission cut out, then dismissed the “Supreme Leader” with a wave of his hand. He turned to the tech, who waited anxiously.

“Clearly, our glorious leader has no interest in actually leading. Very well, I will just have to make the decision.” He strode towards the front of the bridge, smirking slightly. “Contact Commander Wessin and tell him to continue with the recruitment program. It is of the highest priority, even after the passing of Supreme Leader Snoke.” He stood in front of the viewport, chest heaving with emotion. “Soon we will command a force that even our beloved ‘leader’ cannot intimidate,” he hissed towards the uncaring stars.


	5. Memories

“No,” Finn said, standing up so quickly that he knocked his seat over backwards. “That’s not happening. Never.”

“Finn, buddy,” Poe rose as well, reaching out a placating hand. “None of us love the idea, but -”

“I swore to  _ never _ wear that armor again,” Finn growled. “And the people in the academy are innocents - children. Think of something else, Poe.”

Rose laid a hand on his arm, but he shook her off, glaring around the room. “Do none of you see what an insane plan this is? We’ll never be able to pull it off, and even if we did -” He broke off, shaking his head. He threw another incensed glare at Poe, then stalked out of the room, pushing his way past the members of the Resistance. The meeting was adjourned, and everyone filed out except for Rey, leaving her and Poe alone with BB-8. Poe walked over to his droid and rubbed its dome fondly, fingers absently trailing over insensate metal as if he were petting a pet ripper-raptor.

“Well, that went over better than expected,” Poe said, smiling tiredly at Rey. “What about you? I got the feeling you weren’t too thrilled about your role, either.”

She shrugged, grimacing an apology. “I’m sure you know what you’re doing. I don’t know much about strategy or politics.”

“One thing’s for sure,” he said, winking outrageously. “You’re a much prettier ambassador than I ever was. Maybe we should have Janray draw up some new posters with you on them, see if we can’t bump up recruitment numbers.”

Rey’s face felt like it was on fire. “Oh - I don’t know,” she said, stumbling over her words. “If I’m prettier than you.  _ Uhhhh _ , I mean -”

“Keep talking,” he grinned. “We might piss Finn off for the second time today. Maybe he’ll be so mad this time, he’ll agree to the plan just to show me up.”

Rey tried to laugh, but was relieved when he turned away and she was able to leave. She liked Poe, she just found him . . . overwhelming. She retreated to her room onboard the  _ Falcon _ , which was Han’s old bunk and now served partly as a storage room. She wound her way through piles of boxes and sank onto the lower bunk. Rose slept in the upper bunk when she could spare the time from her mechanic duties.

That was the real problem, Rey thought, glancing around the empty room. Everyone else had a clearly-defined role, a vital job to do. She wasn’t sure where she fit into the Resistance yet. Nobody seemed to expect her to pitch in much, and got uncomfortable if she tried to do any of the menial tasks that she was expert in. So, as now, she often found herself at loose ends. She glanced around the room, restless for something to distract her from her whirling thoughts.

In one of the boxes were Leia’s few surviving belongings, including a few odds and ends that nobody except for the general understood the value of. One of these Rey now took out, curious for a second look. It was a small holoprojector, at least a few dozen years old, marked with soot and scored as if it had survived as much as the General herself.

Rey pressed the button and the holo flickered into view.

It took her a moment to process what she was seeing. Leia, thirty years younger, straight and slim, her shining hair caught into a multitude of braids looped fetchingly at the crown of her head, a brilliant smile on her face. Standing next to her was a man that she recognized as a young Han Solo, cradling a small bundle and looking distinctly nervous. Rey smiled at the image, then flicked the button and the next image appeared. A small boy no older than eight, pale and freckled, with a mop of unruly black hair, crooked teeth projecting from his grin, with a tiny lightsaber in his hands. She gasped, dropping the holo. It landed on the floor with a  _ clunk _ , the flickering blue image still projected.

_ Of course Leia still has pictures of Ben. _ She should have realized it before. She glanced around, sweating with anticipation, waiting for  _ him _ to appear.

But the moments slid by, and she was still alone. She bent to retrieve the holo, bit her lip, and moved on to the next. Ben was younger in this one, perhaps five, arm in arm with another child of the same age. They were both shame-faced, covered in grime and scratches, Ben with a black eye and the other boy with a split lip. There was a brief caption to this one - CHANDRILA, 10 ABY.

She flicked through the images, dozens of them, all similar in theme. Every single one a different picture of the small boy that Leia had obviously adored. She was in some of them, hugging her son or playing games with him. Rey stopped on the final holo, feeling as if the air had been driven from her lungs.

FIRST DAY OF JEDI TRAINING, 15 ABY, the caption read. Luke was there, grinning, and Han, one arm slung casually around his son’s shoulders. Leia held one of Ben’s hands, and she was looking at him with glimmering eyes, her mouth a rigid line.

_ Did she see it, even then? _ Rey wondered, studying the flickering image carefully.  _ Or is she simply afraid to let him go? _

She looked at Ben’s face. This was the oldest he had appeared in any of the holos, and at ten he was already almost as tall as his mother. His eyes looked out at her, serious and intense, and she recognized a hint of that desperation, the need that she had seen in Snoke’s throne room, when he had put his hand out to her and said:

“ _ Please. _ ”

Yes, she decided. Leia had seen it, whatever darkness had been present that had eventually led him to Snoke. The darkness that had driven his own uncle - the grinning, sunny-faced man in the holo, his arm companionably linked with his sister’s - to consider striking down a sleeping child. Even if only for an instant.

_ What was it? _ She wondered for the first time.  _ What did they see that frightened them so? Was it Ben - or was it Snoke? _

A thought that she had never before considered stole into her mind.

_ Who  _ was  _ Ben Solo? _

The door  _ chizzed _ open and she jumped, fumbling to shut off the holo. Rose stuck her head in, smiling. “Hey, Poe wants you back in the meeting room . . . place. I guess you need to be involved with whatever’s going on.”

Rey rose, stuffing the holo in her pocket. “Thanks,” she said, trying to cover her unease. Rose nodded, noticing nothing, and vanished back whence she had come. Rey headed out of the room, closing the door behind her, and walked through the empty ship back to the cargo hold. Poe was there, the three droids, several members of the Resistance including Rose, Greer Sonnel, and Finn. When Rey entered, everyone looked around and she flinched, hand automatically brushing the holoprojector hidden in her pocket.

“Ok, she’s here,” Poe said, raising his eyebrows at Finn. “What have you got to say?”

“I’ll do it,” Finn said, his brows lowered and his hands clenched on his hips. “I’ll help you get into the Utrav base. But only on my terms.”

  
  


The proximity alarm sounded, and Kylo jerked awake with a grunt, nearly toppling out of the pilot’s seat. He dragged a hand over his face and looked around as the ship dropped out of hyperspace, just over Tatooine.

The planet spread out below him, deceptively golden and soft-looking from space. He looked for a long, silent moment, then made his approach, aiming for a specific sector on the southeastern end of the Jundland Wastes. Normally, when approaching a planet, one needed to find a spaceport, receive docking codes, declare any cargo, and wait to be given landing vectors. No such niceties were observed on this planet. He was free to ignore and be ignored, and that feeling was unguent to his soul.

_ No wonder Han Solo liked Tatooine so much, _ a traitorous voice whispered in his mind. The ship entered the atmosphere and the rushing of the wind became loud enough to drown out any such musings.

Until, suddenly, sound went dead. He glanced around, finding her seated in the copilot’s chair. To his amusement, her feet dangled inches from the floor in a seat designed to accommodate his larger frame.

Rey jumped to her feet immediately, eyes flashing. “I knew you were here,” she muttered, clutching her staff and glaring. “I felt you arrive. So you  _ are _ chasing us.”

Kylo concentrated on piloting the ship through a tricky canyon, darting and weaving, turning the ship almost sideways. Rey stumbled and nearly fell over, and she felt her way back into the chair with an annoyed expression. The canyon widened out onto a broad salt plain, and Kylo righted the ship. He was doing his best to focus, even though he could feel Rey’s eyes studying him.

“You look terrible,” she said abruptly.

His eyes flickered away, having come to the opposite conclusion about her. He knew that the lack of sleep, barely eating, and the merciless way that he drove himself onward had been taking a toll on his body.

“Is that the only weapon you have?” He indicated the quarterstaff. “That’s a shame.”

Her hands tightened on the shaft and she glared. “It’s seen me through some tense moments,” she said. “I wouldn’t trade it for . . .” Her eyes drifted to the lightsaber on his belt. “Any less-reliable weapon.”

“Having trouble with my grandfather’s lightsaber?” He smiled tightly, bringing the  _ Upsilon _ -class ship down for a perfect landing - not even so much as a jolt.

“It’s damaged beyond repair.” He caught a glimpse of a tear glittering in her eye before she turned away sharply, but he stood and stretched, putting on a show of indifference. “The blue crystal was shattered,” she continued, her voice strident as if to deny her emotion.

He halted, confusion warring with incredulity in his mind. “Shattered? Impossible. Why would you lie about . . .” He turned back towards her, meeting her gaze. Her thoughts swirled close to the surface, brought up by a torrent of emotion. Grief, guilt, fear. And there - yes, there it was. The memory of holding the twisted remnants of Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber, broken in two. “No, you’re not lying. But how? Kyber crystals can survive in the heart of a star.”

She shrugged. “How should I know? I didn’t even know it was called a kyber crystal.”

“You really do need a teacher,” he snickered. He knew that he was purposely trying to rile her, to bring the color back to her pale cheeks, but he refused to wonder why. “Too bad, because I’m no longer on the market. At least, not for scrawny Resistance traitors.”

“Don’t strain yourself worrying about me,” she shot back. “We’ll be gone in a few hours. Good luck guessing where we are next time.”

“A few hours are all I need,” he murmured.

She sank back into her seat, and he strode out of the ship and into the bright, salty air. He glanced around at the collection of domed huts lumped around a rock-carved hole in the ground. The homestead was long-abandoned, and wind had scoured away most of the paint that had once freshened the dusty grey of the rock. Some of the huts were smoke-blackened still. Not far away, half-buried by sand, was a small graveyard with four markers.

A movement attracted his attention, and he spun, lightsaber leaping into his hand. Rey was at his side in an instant, quarterstaff raised aggressively.

“What is it?” she hissed, eyes darting around with frustration. “I can’t see where you are.”

“Show yourself!” Kylo roared, igniting the red blade with a  _ snap-hiss _ .

A slim figure stepped out into the sunlight, paying him as little attention as if he did not exist. She was deeply sunburned, grizzle-haired, and yet her serene beauty still shone through. She wore simple grey homespun, and carried a pitcher of blue milk. She smiled at something he could not see, then moved on and disappeared from sight. When he reached after her with his mind, there was no trace that she had ever existed.

He deactivated his lightsaber and his hands fell to his sides, trembling. Rey was staring.

“Ben,  _ what’s wrong? _ ” Her voice was soft. She reached out tentatively for his arm. “You’re so afraid . . . Let me help -”

“Leave me alone,” he snarled, throwing a hand out at her. For a moment, his fingers brushed hers -

And then she was gone.


	6. Fun and Games

“I hate this idea,” Rose muttered under her breath, trailing after Finn as they hopped out of the speeder and towards the cantina in the center of town. “I really hate it.”

“You keep saying that,” Finn returned, glancing around and pulling his hood tighter over his head. “I don’t think it’s any more stupid than things we’ve done in the past.”

Rose flattened him with a glare as they walked inside the cantina. “Stupid? Rolling into a gambling den in on Tatooine, with a bounty of ten thousand credits on your head? If Poe had come up with this plan, I’d be calling it brilliant.”

“Well, that’s why I’ve got you,” he said with a grin. “To watch my back. And it had to be me, you know that.”

“Don’t give me the ‘Resistance’s most disposable asset’ line again,” she grimaced.

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

She glanced around, scanning the midafternoon crowd with a critical eye. The band was playing a disjointed tune, and apart from a few drunks draped wearily over the bar and shadowy figures settled in the booths, the crowd was thin. “Well? Is he even here?”

Finn shook his head and took her hand, leading her over to a table. “We got here early. I told him midday.”

Sighing heavily, Rose sank into a seat and cradled her chin in her hand. Her other hand was busy holding tightly onto Finn’s. “So what are we going to be doing for the next -” She checked her wrist chrono. “Two hours?”

“Somehow I don’t think it’s going to be that long,” Finn said with a grimace.

A rough-faced creature with tentacles on its nose sat smoothly in the chair next to Rose.

“ _ Hey _ what do you think -” Her outraged exclamation was cut short with a gasp when she saw the razor-edged knife he was playing with between long, oddly-articulated hands.

Finn gulped as cold steel pressed against his back through the fabric of his shirt. “I told you he was the one,” a soft voice said beside his ear. The tentacled alien let out a wordless grunt - or perhaps the grunt was words, because the one behind Finn chuckled in response. “Then let’s get him out of here - fast.” Finn turned his head to see a human, a brown-skinned female with large, dark eyes and a hooked nose, her head shaved down to stubble, looking back at him. She was pretty, in a terrifying sort of way, and she smiled at him.

“Hi, I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure,” he said, proud that his voice didn’t crack halfway through. This plan had seemed reasonable enough over a game of dejarik on the  _ Falcon _ , but now that he was staring down the barrel of a blaster he was finding all kinds of holes in it.

“I’m G’jera,” the human said, and jerked her head at the tentacle creature. “This is my associate, Ylone. He’s pretty friendly, unless there are credits involved. Are you going to come nicely, or do I need to be more persuasive,  _ traitor _ ?” She leaned lightly on the word, a smile curving her full lips.

“You've already been plenty persuasive,” he managed. “I'll come quietly.”

The three of them got to their feet, Finn shooting Rose a quelling glance when she opened her mouth to speak. She sat back with a furious snort, hands clenched into fists under the table. As they marched him out of the cantina, she leaped to her feet and hurried after, keeping a respectful distance.

_ “Rose?” _ Kaydel’s voice crackled over the comm.  _ “What happened? Did it work?” _

“Yeah, it worked,” Rose muttered, watching as the bounty hunters loaded Finn into their speeder and hastened towards the setting suns. “I  _ hate _ this.”

  
  


Rey blinked, and she was back on the  _ Millenium Falcon _ . The skin of her hand crawled where she could still feel his touch, and she shivered. She felt naked suddenly, defenseless, as she remembered the fear and confusion in Ben's mind as he had stood beside her, lightsaber gripped in one trembling hand, facing something terrible that she could not see. She could not explain her then reaction, that determination to protect him, to destroy anything that meant him harm. Remembering that feeling only made her fear more palpable, ashes on her tongue.

_ We have to leave this planet, _ she thought, the inescapable fact striking her with the force of a blow.  _ It might already be too late. _

She burst into a quiet briefing session, Poe and a few other Resistance officers with their heads bent over a holo projected onto the dejarik board. They looked up in alarm when she ran in, eyes wide and hands trembling.

“Rey -” Poe stepped forward, halting her headlong rush with a gentle hand. “What’s wrong?”

“We need to get off this planet,” she gasped. “We need to leave.  _ Now _ . Kylo Ren followed us here.”

“ _ What? _ ” Greer Sonnel’s voice sounded annoyed, and worse, skeptical. “How in the galaxy could he have managed that? Nobody knows where we are -”

Poe’s eyes searched her face, and the officers murmured among themselves, looking concerned. Rey held herself still, barely breathing, her entire body shaking.

“All right,” Poe said firmly, nodding without taking his eyes off her face. “You heard the Jedi. I want these buckets ready to leave in twenty minutes.” He clapped his hands sharply and the officers ran. He turned back to Rey and said more softly, “Can you tell me anything? What’s happened - how you know that he’s here?”

Rey sucked in a breath. “I wish I could explain,” she muttered, searching for words. “I just know. I felt him when he arrived - he’s here looking for us.”

“Good enough for me,” Poe said. He hesitated. “There is a small catch - nothing serious. Hopefully it won’t hold us up for long.”

“What?” She stared at him, fear and anxiety pounding through her veins.

“Uhhh -” She had never seen the self-possessed Poe look so nervous. He tousled his hair with one hand and avoided her eyes. “It’s Finn. You know, part of his plan. He didn’t want you to know because he’s, er -”

“He’s  _ what, _ Poe?” She narrowly avoided yelling by speaking through clenched teeth.

He met her eyes apologetically. “Well, he’s gotten himself captured by bounty hunters.”

Rey took in a deep, calming breath. “Where is he?” Her voice was light and reasonable. Poe took a step back. “Where  _ is he, Poe? _ ” She didn't wait for an answer, merely snatched her quarterstaff from off the wall, her hands tightening around the haft until the metal creaked.

Poe flinched, clearly expecting her to use it on him. When instead, she whirled and stalked towards the loading ramp, he regained a little of his courage and called after her, “Nobody knows where they took him! He has a plan - Rey!”

She didn't turn, but threw over her shoulder, “I'm not leaving my best friend's life to chance. I'll be back before it sunset - be ready to leave.”

  
  


Kylo Ren sat among the remains of the Lars homestead, consciousness searching through the dark, pursuing - as ever - the elusive remnants of that life that he sought with all the passion of his soul to emulate.

He had visited the Lars household before, years ago, not long after Luke's betrayal. He had been full of purpose then, brimming with fire and hatred. It had been easy to feel it, then - the line of darkness that had sliced through this quiet, eerie place. To hear the echo of screams, catch the scent of smoke on his tongue.

This time, he could not seem to focus. Something about the place seemed to have shifted fundamentally - a different memory was surfacing. He pursued the shade of Darth Vader, but always it led him right around back where he had begun.

The rough-faced woman wandered across his mind over and over again, that kindly smile lighting up her eyes. He amused himself by dissecting her face and form, pointing out every flaw and asymmetry, every wrinkle and pore. Her hands were red and calloused, her stature diminutive, and her figure scrawny.

He found himself reflecting on the probability that this was, in fact, Rey as she would look in thirty or forty years, and had to wrench himself violently away from that line of thought. It led in a dangerous direction.

This place felt haunted - he could feel it, itchy between his shoulder blades, in the breathless waiting between the silences. Or perhaps, he thought, it was  _ he _ who was haunted. By more than just one ghost.

Luke wandered back to his side, eyes still roving over the dusty landscape, the wind-scoured dwellings. There were tears in his eyes, and for the first time since his death, he was silent. Kylo hated to break tradition, but he had to know something, so he spoke first.

“Who is she? The woman?”

Luke glanced around, surprised. “What woman?”

Kylo frowned. “You didn't see her?”

“You're the only person here, Ben,” Luke replied, but there was a frown on his face. “What did she look like?”

“Short. Old - maybe your age. Brown hair in a bun.” Kylo looked at Luke, but the latter remained puzzled. “Wearing a gray dress and carrying some kind of blue liquid in a pitcher. She smiled at someone I couldn't see, then she was gone.”

“Aunt Beru had short hair,” Luke said thoughtfully. He glanced at the grave markers not far away. “The ghosts that wait here for me are friendly, Ben. Maybe yours is, too.”

The night had grown cold, but Kylo barely noticed it. The beacon on his wrist vibrated silently, and he looked up at the cold, glittering night sky. One of the stars seemed to have unmoored itself and was now veering in his direction. He stood, walked a few yards away from the empty homestead, and waited.

The ship that became visible after a few minutes was sleek, black, and innocuous. Only the most highly trained of eyes would have been able to discern the arsenal of weapons concealed behind every panel. Kylo noted a few new scorch marks and dings, but these were only to be expected. The landing was almost - not quite - as flawless as the one he had executed earlier that day.

The ramp lowered, steam billowing in every direction, and dark figures emerged from the mist. Seven of them, all dressed in black, loaded with weapons, faces masked with fantastical creations of black carbon and beaten steel.

Kylo stepped forward to meet them, a surge of pride filling his limbs with warmth and bringing the shade of a smile to his face. They lined up, silent and watchful, waiting to be received.

“Welcome, old friends,” he murmured, drinking in the sight. With these warriors, he was no mere underling, no interloper, no menace to be feared. To them, he  _ was _ the Master. They were his utterly.

The Knights of Ren.


	7. Fear Leads . . .

The ship that Finn was less than pleased to be a captive aboard was, frankly, cramped, and stank of rust and something unpleasantly fishy. He had been bound hand and foot and tossed unceremoniously into a corner of the cockpit, while G’jera paced back and forth, muttering into a comm, and Ylone placidly tinkered with the hyperdrive systems.

Finn selected the tentacled alien as his best bet, and waited until the repairs had brought Ylone within a few feet before speaking in a quiet voice.

“Hey, you - uh, Ylone, right?”

The implacable alien betrayed not even a tentacle flutter to indicate he had heard, but Finn decided to press on regardless.

“Listen,” he said. “I can get you something better than ten thousand credits. Enough to get you a new ship. A fleet of ships. All I need is for you to get me into contact with the head of the bounty hunter’s guild, Bossk.”

Ylone did react to this, by dropping the multitool he held and turning away, walking over to intercept G’jera in her pacing. He spoke quietly in her ear, and she frowned. Then she turned towards Finn and advanced on him. He shrank back against the wall as best he could, but she stopped a few feet away and stood with her hands on her hips, regarding him inscrutably.

“You want to talk to Bossk, huh? The boss?” G’jera bit her lip, then erupted into gales of laughter. Ylone stood nearby, an amused  _ hyuk-hyuk-hyuk _ escaping from his tentacles.

G’jera didn't stop laughing until tears were actually rolling down her cheeks. Finn thought it was a very unnecessary display, but when it was over she gazed at him with what appeared to be genuine affection.

“Oh, kriff, I haven't enjoyed a bounty this much since I was a kid,” she chortled. “You've got some nerve, traitor. I suppose you don't know - but Bossk’s name is pretty much mud in the guild these days. Plus nobody's seen him for years now, not that anyone cares.”

“W-well,” Finn said, thinking furiously. “I already knew the second thing. And he's the only one who can help me - help  _ us _ \- get to the score of the century. But I need your help to contact him.”

Ylone spoke then for the first time, his soft grunting voice catching G’jera's interest. She listened and her eyes narrowed.

“You think so? Interesting.” G’jera settled down onto her haunches next to Finn, head tilted to regard him with fathomless dark eyes. “My overcautious friend there actually believes you. That in itself is enough to make you a curiosity, Mister Traitor.”

“The name's Finn,” he muttered.

“So they've started naming the cannon fodder?” She nodded thoughtfully. “That’s something I never suspected.”

“No - I earned it when I escaped!” He bit off the words, for he was proud of the name that had cost him so much. “I’m happy to be called traitor by the First Order, but not by free citizens of the galaxy.”

The ship rocked then, hard enough to snap his head back against the wall, and he stared around in confusion.

G’jera had already leaped to her feet. “What was that - a bomb?”

Ylone responded just as shortly, the two of them hastening to the controls to assess any damage.

“No, you're right,” G’jera muttered, scanning a readout. “No explosives. So what - an earthquake?”

The gangway creaked, then, with an ear-rending screech, began to open. Finn blinked at the brightness pouring in.

“Did you open the door?” G’jera didn't wait for a response, jumping to her feet with her blaster raised. Before the platform had opened even halfway, a figure jumped into the opening - a slim shape, black against the bright blue Tatooine sky. A staff was in her hand.

G’jera opened fire, but the intruder evaded the first two deftly. The third, however, sizzled past her shoulder, and she let out an enraged cry and deflected the fourth with a raised hand, shooting the bolt back with such accuracy that G’jera was forced to fling herself to the deck to avoid being hit.

“I'm here for Finn,” she said, stepping forward.

“Rey?” He blinked disbelieving eyes. “What are you  _ doing here -” _

He had never seen her like this before. She was terrifying in her anger, her eyes almost black in her pale face, hands trembling around the haft of her quarterstaff.

“I'm here to make sure you're safe,” she replied, turning to face him. Her grip on the quarterstaff relaxed somewhat. “We have to leave this planet.”

“I'm kinda in the middle of something - in case you can't tell -”

“Jedi,” G’jera whispered, staring as Ylone helped her back onto her feet.

“Not exactly,” Rey said. She seemed to be calming down - at least, the wild light behind her eyes had dimmed. “I don't even have a lightsaber.”

Ylone, whose gaze had not wavered from Rey since the moment she appeared, spoke in that grunting language of his, and G’jera nodded agreement.

“He says ‘the weapon does not make the warrior.’ And he is right.” Carefully, she set her blaster aside and held out her empty hands pleadingly. “We meant no harm to any of yours, Master Jedi.”

Ylone now preceded to sink to his knees, face pressed against the deck, mumbling under his breath.

“What's gotten into him?” Finn agreed, staring over at the prostrated alien.

“What, you think that you are the only one who grew up on the stories?” G’jera said. “His planet was enslaved for generations - and then the Jedi came. Liberated them within a day. His people have never forgotten. He always dreamed of meeting a Jedi, but we had heard they were all dead.”

Rey knelt in front of him, and he raised his head to look at her. “Please don’t bow, friend. I’m a poor excuse for a Jedi, obviously.” She glanced around ruefully, seeming to have come entirely back to herself. “I apologize for any damage I might have done to your ship.”

G’jera smiled. “It will be worth it, now that I can tell my clients I have fought a Jedi and lived to tell the tale. I’ll probably start charging double.”

“This is sweet and all, but is someone going to take these binders off me?” Finn asked plaintively.

Rey frowned in concentration and waved a hand, and the binders clicked, dropping off his wrists and ankles. He sat up with a sigh of relief, rubbing at the soreness. Rey moved towards him without a word and hugged him tightly, and he hugged her back with a gasp of relief.

“You scared me for a minute there,” he whispered into her hair.

“I know,” she muttered back. “I'm sorry.”

She helped him to his feet and they turned to face the bounty hunters. Ylone rose as well, glancing at G’jera and grunting gently.

She hesitated a moment, then sank into a smooth bow. When she looked up, she looked at Finn. “We'll find Bossk for you,” she said. “Jedi friend.”

“Wow! Really?” He bit back a grin and tried to bow in response.

“We’ll contact you once we have his location,” she said, glancing around at Ylone. “You’ll need our help to approach him, though.”

“How will you know where to find us?” he asked.

She grinned in response. “A bounty hunter always tags her catch,” she said. “Don't worry, I'll know where you are.”

Ylone raised one hand in farewell and spoke in heavily-accented Basic:

“May the Force be with you.”

  
  


Stars burned bright against a black sky above the silvery landscape of Tatooine. The Monk, Aloadr Ren, left the ship and stood gazing upward for a time, the blank face of his mask giving no indication of his feelings. Perhaps he was admiring the beauty of the vista. Perhaps he searched the skies for signs of an enemy. Whatever his purpose, he soon turned his attention back to the homestead lying silent and white under the endless sky.

Kylo Ren knelt in the center of the silent cluster of buildings, head bowed and hands clenched on his knees. Aloadr approached, then hesitated in the shadows of one of the huts, gloved hands folded together in front of him.

“Join me,” Kylo said without opening his eyes. “I'm not doing anything important.”

The Monk strode over and seated himself crosslegged across from Kylo. After a moment of consideration, he reached up and took off his helmet. The moonlight glanced off a smooth, rounded face, short-cropped blond hair, and deep-set eyes that looked out of place in his youthful face. For a moment, the two young men regarded each other in silence.

“Something’s changed. I've never felt you this . . . divided.” Aloadr hesitated. “At least, not since we were children. Snoke's death has hurt you most of all, I think.”

“I need his guidance,” Kylo’s voice was weary, a weakness he would never have shown to the other Knights. “I've done everything he asked, and I'm still . . . torn. The call of the Light is stronger than ever.”

Aloadr Ren shook his head. “The Supreme Leader always said that was where your true strength lies, Kylo,” he said. “Your heritage as the heir of Vader, and of Skywalker. In the Dark -  _ and _ the Light. The more you fight that, the weaker you make yourself.”

“I can't be both,” Kylo sighed. “It's impossible! I thought I'd figured out the answer, but I was wrong.” His hands tightened into fists, the leather gloves squeaking.

“This is about that girl, isn't it?” Aloadr said, eyes distant as if he were looking at something in the far distance. “The one you used to see sometimes?”

Kylo’s expression darkened further, but his voice was tightly controlled when he responded. “I met her. Three weeks ago, she finally appeared - far, far too late.” Unconsciously, he touched the seam of a scar running down his right cheek.

“You cannot thwart destiny, Kylo.” Alaodr reprimanded. “Those visions _ are _ your destiny, and hers.”

“I no longer trust my visions as blindly as I once did,” Kylo said. “They are designed to trick and deceive.”

Alaodr chuckled suddenly. “I see now. This is about her. The two sides of you are warring over this girl.”

“I'm so weak,” Kylo creaked out, bowing his head to avoid his friend's gaze.

“This is not news to me,” Alaodr said. He was still grinning. “Will she join our cause?”

Kylo shook his head, eyes burning dark and furious now. “She refused, twice.” He glared up at Alaodr, who schooled his face to avoid another grin. “If she were gone, so would this . . . torment.”

Alaodr nodded. “So how will we find her?” he asked.

Kylo let out a breath that was almost a snort. “She’s flying my father’s ship,” he said. “I know a thing or two about finding it. But I can't do it, Alaodr. I can't face her again - I'm too weak. She's even worse than in my visions.”

Alaodr’s eyebrows shot up, and his lips pursed speculatively, but his voice was soft and expressionless. “We're your servants, Master,” he said. “Always.”


	8. Brothers in Arms

“You  _ nerf- _ brained -” Rose backed away from Finn’s outstretched arms and lashed out with both small fists, catching him a glancing blow on the arm.

“Ow! What is wrong with you?” Finn gasped, backing away from her fury.

She pursued, eyes glinting too-bright in her pale face. “That was a terrible plan, and you know it!”

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” Finn shot back, frowning. “You know what’s at stake -”

“Your  _ life _ , idiot,” she snapped. “If Rey hadn’t gone after you -”

His cheeks darkened. “Listen, I had the situation under control, all right?”

Rey turned away to see Poe watching from the door to the cockpit. She headed over to him, and he nodded to the still-arguing pair with a smile. “I’m with Rose,” he said quietly to Rey. “He’s lucky to have a friend like you, Rey.”

She ducked her head. “Look, about what happened earlier - I shouldn’t have -”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, leading her into the cockpit. He settled into the pilot’s chair, and she sank down into the copilot’s seat, hands clenched in her lap. Deftly, as if he had been piloting the aging cargo freighter since birth, he switched on the controls and engaged the repulsorlifts, and the  _ Millenium Falcon _ lifted smoothly into the air, twirling gracefully as it ascended. Then he engaged the sublight engines, and they raced off into the blue sky.

Rey settled back into her seat, watching as they cleared the atmosphere and the blackness of space enveloped them, twinkling with stars.

“Calculate the jump for me, would you?” Poe said absently, hands stroking the controls as gently as if they were the face of his lover.

Relieved for something to do, Rey sat forward, flicking on the nav system. “What’s our destination?”

“Jabiim - Phelleem sector.”

She nodded, and for a moment she lost herself in the straightforward difficulty of hyperspace plotting, feeding data into the whirring computer and waiting for it to finish computing a route. “Ready,” she said finally.

“Punch it,” he said, throwing her a fleeting grin.

Flicking a switch over her head, she flung down the hyperdrive lever. The ship hummed, the stars streaked across the cockpit, and then they were flying through the coruscating blue of hyperspace. Poe nodded in satisfaction, then rose and stretched.

“This is a long flight. You should get some rest - you look beat.”

She accepted the friendly tone with a nod, but made no move to rise.

Poe watched her for a moment, then said softly, “You were afraid, and with good reason. Everyone is allowed to be afraid. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

He left a moment later, and she squeezed her eyes shut and let out a sigh. Fear was a natural reaction, but what had happened had felt like more than that. She had scared Poe. She had almost killed that bounty hunter. Finn was worried about her. And she was still afraid, so afraid that her skin felt stretched around her bones.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the shattered pieces of the lightsaber. Ben's words about her lack of a weapon now struck her as a warning as much as a dig at her novitiate status. Without a proper weapon, she was exposed, unprotected.

She didn't have any idea how to build a lightsaber - only a few weeks ago she had never even seen one before. But she had worked as a scavenger of much more complicated machines her whole life, and she knew how to rebuild something as long as she had the template and materials to piece together.

She frowned as she examined what she had to work with. It was a discouraging sight. The metal of the casing was bent and twisted beyond repair. She might be able to salvage some of the more sturdy components, but the delicate wiring and power assembly were completely trashed. She looked more closely and frowned thoughtfully.

The blue crystal itself had split cleanly into two almost-identical halves.

She stared for a moment as an idea wormed its way into her mind like a snake through a sand dune. For a moment she pondered over the pitfalls of such a plan, but the idea had her by the throat and she jumped to her feet, hurrying through the crowded ship to her bunk. There, she sat at the workbench and fell to work like a woman possessed. She worked until her stomach was growling restlessly, and a glance at the wall chrono confirmed that it was dinnertime.

A wonderful smell beckoned her out of the room, and she followed the scent to the galley, where the rest of the Resistance was already gathered, sitting in small groups on boxes of equipment. Poe hovered over the stove, dumping generous portions of meat and some sort of stewed root vegetable onto everyone’s plates. Licking her lips, Rey grabbed a plate from the kitchenette and joined the queue. Poe winked at her again when she reached him, and he laid an especially thick slab of meat on her plate.

“Saving it for you,” he said. “Enjoy the fun.”

She smiled back, puzzled, then hurried over to settle down next to Finn. She immediately grabbed the food with her fingers and began wolfing it down as fast as she could, pausing occasionally to lick at the grease dripping down her fingers and chin. Finn stared at her in horror and glanced down at his own portion, which he was attempting to eat with a broken fork and a triangle of sharp-ish metal.

“Oh come on, Finn,” Rey mumbled indistinctly through her mouthful. “Nobody here cares about table manners. Just eat with your hands.”

“They care about table manners in stormtrooper school,” he shot back. “They’ll find you out right away if you can’t play the part.”

Rose wiggled her shoulder playfully against his. “Just this once, Finn. Tomorrow, you can teach us all how to have manners and smell good all the time.”

He wrinkled his nose doubtfully, but set the utensils aside and reached for the meat with finger and thumb.

“Like this,” Rey demonstrated, grabbing her meat with both hands and digging in with a growl. Finn watched, wide-eyed. Slowly, he reached down and seized his food, then brought it up to his mouth and took a tentative bite.

Rose clapped and laughed. “Oh, we’ll make a real Rebel out of you soon enough!”

“There’s so much to learn,” he sighed, smiling at her.

Rey watched them silently, nearly choking on the mouthful she had all but forgotten to chew. She thought of the object waiting in her bunk and wondered if anyone would notice if she just took her food back there.

“Wow, this is actually really great,” Finn said enthusiastically, tearing off a chunk with relish. “What did you say it was called?”

“Well, I just call it roasted womp rat,” Poe said with a shrug. “But it might have a fancier name.”

Finn’s face went still suddenly, and then Rey saw that his cheeks were reddening.

“Something wrong?” Lieutenant Connix asked, tilting her head curiously.

He shook his head violently, then gestured at the plate in front of him. Swallowing hard, he managed to choke out - “We’re . . . eating . . . a . . .  _ rat _ ?”

Rey frowned in confusion. “Womp rat, right? I’ve never heard of it before, but it’s actually quite pleasant. Less stringy than ripper raptor, not as slimy as stewed sand snail . . .”

“Rats eat  _ garbage, _ Rey -” He glared across the room at Poe, who gazed innocently at nothing at all. “This isn’t really a rat, is it?” Getting nothing in the way of reassurance from Poe, he looked beseechingly around at the other members of the Resistance. Everyone stared back, chewing with gusto. Rose was biting her lips, trying to keep from smiling.

“Oh, kriff, it _ is _ ,” he groaned. His cheeks were slightly green. He clapped a hand over his mouth and sprinted for the 'fresher.

The camp erupted with laughter, and Rey saw Poe topple over onto the deck, howling. Rose wrapped her arms around herself to contain her snorts, and even stern Greer Sonnel had a dimple coming into her cheek.

“It’s better than ration bars any day of the week.” Rey glanced at Poe, then at Rose, trying to understand. “What's wrong with him?”

“Ohh . . .” Rose gasped, struggling for breath. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes sparkled. She clapped Rey on the shoulder. “That's a good question, Rey. A very good question.”

A comm tech hurried over from her position by the scanners, her eyes wide. “Commander Dameron,” she said excitedly, “I think you should hear this. It came over the encrypted long-wave channel.”

He listened to the recorded message, which sounded like a series of grunts and growls, and glanced around with a mystified expression. His eyes focused on Rey's face. “Is that Chewbacca? What did he say?”

Rey's eyes were shining and she glanced up at him with a grin. “He said - 'I found friends.’”

  
  


Cadjair Ren, the Pirate, was the newest member of the Knights of Ren, the only one who had not yet earned a helmet. He sat at the controls of Kylo Ren's shuttle, fingers flying over the controls, eyes narrowed in concentration.

“You said that Han Solo used a private frequency to track his ship?” He glanced aside at the man sitting in the copilot's seat, and quickly looked away. He had been excited to finally meet the legendary Master, and struggled to hide his disappointment at the pale, brooding reality. But he had the sinking feeling that Kylo Ren knew exactly what he was thinking anyway.

“In the event that the ship was stolen,” Kylo said, a brief sneer curling his lip. “Which it was, more often than not. It's encrypted, but I'm sure you'll have no problem getting around that.” Without another word, he rose and swept out of the cockpit, leaving Cadjair alone to his work.

“‘ _ I'm sure you'll have no problem _ ,’” Cadjair repeated in a derisive tone. The ship hummed to life and lifted into the air, shooting into the blue sky.  “Do I tell you how to swing your sword, oh great Master?”

The Rogue came in just in time to catch the tail of his words, and she smacked him on the back of the head, just hard enough to knock his spectacles onto the control panel.

“ _ Ow _ ,” he complained, fishing around for the lost item and clapping them back into his face. “Your love-taps are losing their sweetness, Shrlei.”

“You're lucky I was the one who heard you,” she growled from inside her helmet. “You underestimate Kylo Ren at your own risk.”

“I just can't see what's so special about him,” the Pirate said. “So what if he's related to a dead Sith? I'm related to some kind of Jedi, too, on my mother's side, but you don't see me going around bragging about it.”

“Darth Vader was not just any Sith,” she said. “But I wouldn’t expect a worm like yourself to appreciate such subtleties.”

Cadjair shook his head and returned to his work. “All I know is, he’s got an awful lot of scars for a supposed master of the sword.” He chuckled, watching as the blackness of space surrounded them. “This encryption is pretty advanced, you know. Almost as complicated as the path to a certain lady's heart.”

“Your chatter is beginning to bore,” she said. “How much longer until -”

“Done,” he said, and the coruscating blue of hyperspace surrounded the ship. “I'll see you in my bunk, Shrlei?” he said with a wink.

She returned his gaze, expression hidden by her mask, but her hand tightened around the knife on her hip.

Sighing heavily, Cadjair headed for the door. “One of these days you're going to wake up and see what a catch I am,” he complained.

“I suspect one does  _ catch  _ you, rather like a virulent disease,” she returned. “Get out of my sight.”

He vanished, smirking.


	9. Counterattack

Jabiim was about as different from Tatooine as possible. Relentless rain lashed the viewports, and thunder rumbled a constant counterpoint. Slick grey rocks were the only thing to be seen in any direction, crumbling mountains and canyons. Rey slept badly, and when morning came it felt like a kick in the head. She blinked at the dim light coming through the viewport, and sat up wearily, rubbing the back of her neck and yawning. She glanced around to see Rose settled on the floor beside the bunk, working on a ration bar and rubbing sleep-glazed eyes.

“Morning,” she said, much more cheerfully than Rey could have managed. “I brought you breakfast.”

She handed over another ration bar and a cup of that curiously-flavored blue milk that the locals on Tatooine were so fond of. Rey drank greedily, then nodded thanks before ripping into the food.

Rose cocked her head curiously at the object on the workbench. “So - what did you make?” she asked. “You were up pretty late.”

Rey glanced over as well, seeing the curious object lying on the bench with fresh eyes. It was her staff, but it was different. She had removed most of the middle section, fusing the two ends together to make a staff only a bit longer than her arm. There were other modifications as well, but they weren’t immediately obvious.

“I thought it was time I had another weapon,” she said. She stood, picked up the staff, and held it out horizontally in front of her. She touched a button and a blue blade ignited from one end, the humming noise loud in the silence. Rey let out a shaky breath and grinned. “First time I tried that. Glad it worked.”

Rose had nearly jumped out of her skin when the blade appeared, but she gathered her wits and rose to her feet, eyes wide with astonishment. “How did you -”

“There’s more,” Rey said, still grinning. She touched another button next to the first. 

A second blade  _ chizzed _ to life on the other end. The blades were shorter than average, only about a foot and a half long, and with both ignited the staff was restored to its original length.

Rose backed away, chuckling nervously. “Wow, that’s - that’s really something. Are you sure you know how to handle that?”

Rey shrugged. She deactivated the blades again and lowered the weapon to her side. “I’ve been fighting with a staff as long as I can remember. This should be no problem.” She frowned down at her creation. “The crystal was split, so the blades are shorter than standard. The biggest problem is that the middle part -” She hefted the metal casing, all that was left of her trusty staff. “- is vulnerable to another lightsaber. I was too tired to come up with a solution last night.”

“Yeah, I see that.” Rose frowned. “I’m not exactly an expert, but - well, I've heard that some staffs are made of cortosis ore. Even a lightsaber can't cut that. It’s hard to find these days, though, and costs a fortune.”

“And we’re eating dune rats and counting our credits,” Rey said with a pained laugh. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Well you  _ could _ . . .” Rose trailed off, eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“What?” Rey prompted.

“This might be a dumb idea,” Rose apologized, but there was a light of excitement in her eyes. “What if you rigged it so that it came apart in the middle, so that you could have a staff  _ and _ double weapons?”

Rey hesitated. Then she held the staff out to Rose. Rose stared, eyes the size of dinner plates.

“Y-you would trust  _ me _ to . . .” Rose’s cheeks were as round and red as apples when she smiled. “Oh wow.” Gingerly, she reached out and brushed the lightsaber with her fingertips, jumping a little as if she expected it to shock her. Then she grasped it firmly, chuckling in delight. “I’ll have it done before dinner, I promise,” she said, grinning at Rey.

Rey watched her work for a while, but she was brimming with energy from the food and from her self-enforced enclosure of the previous day, so she pulled her poncho over her head and headed out into the torrential rain.

Everyone was cold and tired today - the entire camp felt muted, hidden under damp tents. Finn sat huddled over a technical readout, jacket pulled tight. Rey glanced around, blinking rain out of her eyes, and smiled to herself. She wished that she could have practiced with her new staff, but there were things she could do even without a weapon.

She strode out through the rocky canyon until the camp was out of sight. This time, no one followed her, but she didn’t go far. Under the unrelenting rain, she began to stretch, limbering up for a workout session. Her legs and back were stiff from sitting for so long, and the cold didn’t help, so she spent extra time ensuring that they were warmed up.

Then she settled into a defensive pose, rocking on the balls of her feet, fists raised, knees bent. She lashed out with fists, then feet, picking up speed. Imagining a pale, derisive face under each blow. Within moments, sweat was streaming from her face and her light tunic was sticking to her back under the poncho.

“I was hoping you would take my warning about not having a weapon to heart.” His voice was low and mocking. “But this is just pathetic.”

She froze, then turned slowly to face him.

He loomed over her, a shadow in the misty half-light, dressed in a simple, loose black robe tied with a belt, and wide-legged black pants from under which his bare feet were visible. His hair was caught up into a messy knot on the top of his head. His lightsaber spat red light onto the dark rocks.

“We’ll make landfall on Jabiim before nightfall,” he said calmly. “You should really make an attempt to be less predictable.”

She ground her teeth, shaking with cold and anger and helplessness.

He glanced over at her, seemed to dismiss her presence, then lunged into an aggressive attack stance. Invisible attackers pressed from every side, and he stepped forward to meet the first blow, eyes narrowed with concentration, breathing deeply but calmly. He was sparring as well, she realized. If she concentrated hard enough, she could see shadowy figures running up to meet him, although they were too nebulous for her to distinguish.

_ Why am I  _ trying _ to see _ ? She closed her eyes and concentrated, willing the Force to take her back to where she wanted to be. With  _ friends _ , people she cared about. Trusted. She swung back into her own training with an added edge of fury, knowing that he was moving in sync with her and hating it. They battled together under a sky of grey for what felt like hours and also no time at all.

He was done before she was, and she tried to ignore him watching her as she pummeled the air, her cheeks as hot as her muscles. Finally, she swung around to face him, glaring. “Was there something . . .” She stuttered to a halt, words flying out of her mind.

His dark eyes were resting absently on her, black hair sticking to his face and neck. Sweat gleamed on his face and what was visible of his pale chest through the loose neck of his robe. He shook back a few strands of hair from his eyes and stepped closer, a grin narrowing his eyes into slits. There were dimples, and those crooked teeth she had seen before on a holo. Her stomach lurched.

_ Kriff, _ she thought incoherently, turning her head to hide her scarlet face.  _ What was I saying? _

“Care for a rematch?” he said. He deactivated his lightsaber and tossed it away. To her, it appeared to vanish mid-arc into thin air.

“Can you not see that I’m busy?” she snapped, still avoiding his eyes. “I’d rather you weren’t here at all.”

“I can see that,” he murmured, stepping closer until she was forced to look up into his face.  _ Curse _ his blasted height, anyway! He used it like a weapon. “Could it be that you’re afraid to face me again?”

She scoffed, refusing to retreat. “Afraid? Please. Every time we’ve fought, you’ve ended up falling over, crying for your mommy.” 

He said nothing, eyes narrowed on her face.

She hesitated, then settled back into her stance. “Fine. But only because I’m bored. And kicking your butt is entertaining.”

A smile twisted his lips again for a moment, then he rushed at her. She blocked his first blow and countered with a kick, which he knocked away. For a moment, she lost herself to the ease of it, as if they had been partners for decades. Each thrust and parry was met and blocked with choreographed precision, and she found herself smiling.

At least until her foot slipped on a loose rock. She stood on the edge of a cliff, at least twenty meters high, and for a moment she teetered, arms windmilling, over the brink.

“Rey!” he snapped, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards him.

His hand felt so  _ real _ . Without thinking, she pulled violently out of his grip and lashed out with a wild kick, catching him hard on the side of the knee. He grunted with surprise, weaving slightly, but did not fall. She attacked then in earnest, a lifetime of brawls on Jakku where more than just her life was at stake filling her mind. He fell back at first, favoring his knee, but his eyes narrowed and his jaw firmed.

He landed one blow on her shoulder, then another on her side. He was stronger than her, and had a much longer reach. It was clear from his confident smirk that he wasn’t expecting this to take very long. What he didn’t know was that she had fought her whole life against opponents who outweighed her, and she knew a few tricks.

She saw her opening a moment later when he tried a kick that, if it had landed, would have sent her sprawling onto the ground, possibly out for the count.

She weaved back, then darted forward as his momentum carried his mass around. As he whirled, tracking her, she lashed out with an elbow and caught him a solid blow to the side of the head. He staggered, shaking his head to clear it, and she moved in for the knockout.

Her fingers locked in his hair and dragged him down while thrusting up with one knee. He backed away from the blow, hands tight on her arms, and they both came to a ragged halt, locked together, faces less than an inch apart.

She knew that she should let go, back away.

Her fingers moved in his hair, just a little. It felt damp and silky. Raindrops sparkled among the black.

“How is this possible?” she whispered. “Can this really just be in my head?”

“That's the nature of a Force Bond.” His eyes darted down to her lips, then away. “More than mental, less than physical.”

There was a moment of silence.

“You’re afraid again,” she whispered.

“So are you,” he breathed. “I’ll be there soon.”

Suddenly, he was gone. Still caught in the deadlock, she stumbled and nearly careened onto her face, catching herself hard on a knee and one hand. Her hands clenched into fists, but in a moment the rain had erased his warmth.

There wasn’t enough air on this world to calm her breathing or the racing of her heart. She sank onto her knees and pressed her trembling hands against her face, feeling the ache on her shoulder and side where bruises were already forming.

She rose to her feet, meaning to turn back towards the camp, when something far in the distance caught her gaze. She shaded her eyes and watched the horizon with mounting concern. Finally, she whirled and hastened back to the camp.

“Poe, we need to get off this planet,” she called, urgency breaking her words into fragments. He turned to look at her, dark eyes narrowed with concern. She flung her arm back in the direction she had come. “There’s a storm coming. A bad one.”

Finn jumped to his feet, his face ashen. Lieutenant Connix began shouting orders, and the Resistance began an orderly retreat into the  _ Falcon _ , their only shelter among the bare rocks. Rey helped pack sensitive equipment and lug it onto the ship. The wind was steadily picking up, throwing icy rain into her mouth and eyes, but she tugged a scarf over her face and bore it without complaint. She stayed back, ensuring that every last member of the Resistance was on board, shielding her eyes from the rain, which was now driving sideways. When she was satisfied that everyone was safe, she turned towards the landing ramp. Hesitated. She turned, staring up at the black cloud bearing down on them, white light flashing bright enough to blind her, thunder booming and rolling through the canyon.

“Rey, you coming?” Finn shouted against the wind. He held out a hand for her.

The knot in her chest tightened. She knew that whatever was coming, it was worse than a simple storm.

“I should never have stayed this long,” she whispered. “I'm putting everyone at risk.”

Then she took his hand and they were safely inside.

  
  


The briefing was short and to the point. Kylo Ren’s always were.

“The threat is a new Jedi,” he said crisply. “She was brought before Supreme Leader Snoke to be turned, but instead she murdered him and fled. She is hiding with the rest of the Resistance cowards only a few klicks from here. You will find her and kill her, and so avenge our great leader.”

“What about the other members of the Resistance?” Lornat Ren, the Heavy, asked, his voice rough and cracked underneath the mask.

“They are not the priority today,” Kylo snapped. “In and out. Is that understood?”

“Why are you not coming, Master?” Shrlei Ren asked. Her expression was hidden by the heavy solarshield of her helmet, but there was a strange edge to her tone. The Rogue had always been quick.

Kylo glared, his hand drifting towards his lightsaber. Shrlei gazed back blandly, head tilted and shoulders square.

Alaodr Ren intervened, stepping between Kylo and the Rogue. “We have our orders. Now let’s go while we still have the cover of the storm.”

His men nodded understanding, and the briefing was over. They were already robed and cowled against the howling wind, helmets gleaming dully in the flickering light. They saluted and turned to leave. He watched them race off into the storm, silent on booted feet. Not one of them looked back.

He stalked back towards the ship, limping slightly, favoring his sore knee. Once in the cockpit, he settled down into the seat and rubbed the offending joint, not sure whether to smile or grimace. She fought like a cornered dragon, all teeth and glittering eyes. She would be beautiful even in death - he was sorry that he could not be there to watch.

“Ben, think about what you’re doing.” Luke’s voice cracked with urgency. “I  _ know _ you don’t want Rey to be harmed. You can’t hide your thoughts from me.”

Kylo shook his head, turning his face from his uncle. “It was her decision. There’s nothing I can do about it now.”

“And you think that  _ killing _ her is the answer?”

“I gave her the choice.” Kylo bit down hard on the words. “She’s the biggest threat to the peace I am trying to establish.”

Luke scoffed, a hard light in his eyes. “Biggest threat to the First Order? Or to  _ you _ ?”

“Let the past die,” Kylo muttered, closing his eyes and repeating it over and over in his head like a mantra.

There was one thing that he could not quite ignore. When he had held her in his hands, when she had caressed him with hers, she had not felt like the past. She felt like the future.

“The past isn’t going away, Ben, no matter how much we might wish it would. You always have to learn things the hard way, don’t you?” Luke’s voice bored into his ear like a drill.

When he opened his eyes, Kylo was alone. Wind swirled and rain tapped at the viewport.


	10. The Dead Past

“Can we take off?” Rey’s hand landed on Poe’s shoulder, and her urgent voice assaulted his ears. “We need to leave. Now.”

“All our instruments are dead,” he said patiently. “The storm must be interfering with the systems. We’ll just wait it out, Rey. And we can’t leave until Chewbacca and whatever reinforcements he’s bringing arrive, anyway.”

“ _ No _ ,” she all but whimpered. “We can’t wait!”

“There’s nothing I can do,” he said, rising to his feet. “Even the best pilot in the galaxy can’t fly a dead ship. I’ll get Rose and the other mechanics to work, but they won’t be able to do much without going outside.”

She turned to follow as he left the cockpit, but Finn was waiting by the door and held up an arm to stop her. “Hey,” he said, gently gripping her upper arms. “Want to tell me why you’re so freaked out?”

That grip was all too familiar, and she stiffened. He noticed immediately and drew back, hands falling away. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I bruised my arm while I was training today.”

“Whew,” Finn whistled, tilting his head to inspect the injury. “That’s gonna hurt for a while. How did you -”

“Can you just . . . hold me?” she said, blinking tears out of her eyes. She despised her weakness, but she could not ignore it.

“Don’t need to ask,” he said, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around her. She leaned forward into the embrace, hands curled between them on his chest, and her eyes drifted closed of their own volition. That warmth, the peace that she always felt in his presence, stirred inside her, and she tried to focus on it instead of the terrible fear that would not let her go. The fear that grew stronger and more urgent with each passing moment.

Finn’s breath brushed her ear, warm and soft. “I wish you would tell me what was wrong.” He stroked her hair with one hand. “I mean - what’s  _ really _ wrong.”

Her hands stiffened, clenching into fists. “If I told you -” she said.

Footsteps clattered on the deck behind them. “Finn? Oh -”

Rey stepped back and turned to see Rose, who was backing away, her cheeks red and her gaze averted. Rey stepped sharply away from Finn, sickened by the sadness she glimpsed in Rose’s eyes.

“Rose, please.” Rey held out a hand. “Stay. I need you, too.”

At that moment, the lights flickered, then died.

“That can’t be good,” Rose whispered. “I’ll be right -” She turned and hurried back the way she had come.

Rey was shivering now. The cold and the fear felt like a hand clenching around her heart, squeezing tighter with each second.

“Ok, I’m beginning to see why you were so worried,” Finn said, his hand closing around hers. “Let’s find the others.”

She nodded mutely and followed him out of the room, glancing back at the viewport. The rain pelted down unceasing, and black stormclouds swirled.

They met another group of Resistance coming down towards the gangway, Poe at their head. “What’s going on?” Finn asked, falling into step next to the pilot.

“Whatever it is, it’s -” Poe started, but his words were cut off by a clatter. They looked down to see an innocuous grey cylinder spinning to a halt near their feet. An instant later, white smoke began to pour from both ends, immediately enveloping them in a choking cloud.

“Gas - get  _ back _ !” Poe barked, pressing a sleeve against his nose and mouth. The Resistance obeyed, tripping over each other in their hurry to retreat. “Where are the masks?” he yelled.

“They’re behind the lounge,” Rey called back, slitting her eyes shut against the stinging gas. “But there’s not -”

She broke off with a choked gasp, turning to stare behind her. Something was moving in the mist.

“Run!” she cried, shoving at Finn, at Kaydel, whoever was in front of her. They ran, through the ship into the cargo hold, and then Rey spun to face her enemies.

There was a moment of silence. Nobody spoke - nobody breathed.

A figure loomed out of the smoke, then another, and another. Six in all. Rey gasped, backing away from those terrifying forms, so like and so unlike the black shape that haunted her day and night. The rest of the Resistance was gathered in the cargo hold behind her, blasters held in shaking hands, staring as the dark figures advanced from every direction.

“We are only here for the girl called Rey,” one of the nightmares said in a rough, synthesized voice. “The rest of you may live, if you choose.”

“Is  _ he _ with you?” she snarled. She didn’t care that she had no weapon. She didn’t care that she was about to die. She just hated - hated more than any time before in her life. “Where is he? Tell him to face me himself, the coward.”

“Rey, you can’t do this -” Kaydel whispered, her voice thick with tears.

“Keep back,” Rey snapped. She saw Poe stepping forward, and she flung out a hand to stop him. He skidded back and slammed into the wall, hard enough to knock the blaster from him hands. She released him with a gasp, and he fell to his knees.

“Rey!” Finn’s voice was soft, almost pleading.

She turned to look at the few remaining members of the Resistance. Poe was picking himself off of the floor, eyes wide, and she blinked back a few traitorous tears.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “But you have to take off and leave me. You are the spark.”

“No!  _ Rey! _ ” Finn discarded softness and began to yell, blaster rising, a grimace of anger curling his lip. He leaped forward, blaster bolts flashing in the darkness, screaming defiance. He pushed Rey aside before she could react.

The creatures dodged his fury with indifference, and one of them reached out with one hand, fingers curled into claws. Finn halted mid-rush, blaster dropping from suddenly-nerveless fingers, eyes bulging, choking on nothing as he was raised onto his toes. Rey started forward in agony, but at that moment the grip was released and he fell to the floor, stunned, eyes wandering dully. Another masked man stepped forward, blade raised for a killing blow.

“ _ NO - _ ” Rey reached out, not sure what she was going to do, but her anger was a living thing now, hot and hungry. She would tear them all to shreds with her teeth, if she had to. She would enjoy it.

“Rey! Catch!”

She glanced around, hand already rising automatically to snatch the object that Rose had thrown. Her fingers felt the familiar shape of her staff, and ignited the blade on instinct, swinging it in an arc just in time to block the blow before it killed the unconscious Finn.

Throwing her weight against the weapon, she sent her opponent stumbling backward, nearly knocking over another of his comrades.

“They’re the spark, now it’s time to meet the fire,” she snarled into those blank masks.

And attacked.

  
  


The storm was building. Wind shrieked outside the window, rain slammed against the ship so hard that it shuddered. Thunder crashed in the same instant that lightning tore across the sky.

Kylo, half-drowsing in his seat, felt immersed in the raucous noise as if he were swimming among waves of sound. Were there voices? Why could he not quite make out what they said? His fingers tightened around the pendant hanging from his neck.

“Grandfather?” he whispered. “Is that you?”

His voice echoed inside the helmet, and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck trying to rise. Whispering, whispering, from behind him, in the dark corners of the cockpit. He didn’t know if he were sleeping or awake. Lightning sizzled through the air, striking the cliff near the ship and sending a shower of small rocks that smashed uselessly against the hull.

_ What does your heart tell you? _ The voice was soft, gently-accented, and it smote him like a blow.

He could feel Rey there, although she didn’t appear physically as she usually did. Just the scent of her, that wild, musky odor, and the sound of her tight, terrified breaths. He sat up, fingers gripping the armrests of the pilot’s chair, looking around for her. Even though he knew it was weakness, he wanted to see her one more time, if the Force would allow it. He swiveled the chair around to face the back of the cockpit.

But it was not Rey, it was only that old woman he had glimpsed back on Tatooine, her soft eyes glinting with tears. She had sunk to her knees, and she looked up at him with terrifying love and trust.

_ Be brave. And don’t look back. _ Her voice tightened, quavered.  _ Don’t look back. _ She stood, looking down at him now with sadness and longing, and then she was gone.

“No,” he choked out, reaching for her. “Don’t go -”

She could not be Rey. Rey would die before the storm ended, she would never live to be that age. He would not look back - he spun the chair back around to face the light.

And there she was, Rey and not Rey, dark eyes watching him gravely. Her face was pale as porcelain, her hair spreading in dark waves, flowers glowing blue and white from among the tresses. She was heavily pregnant, belly round as the full moon. She reached out to him.

_ Ben. Please _ , she whispered.  _ Don’t cry. It was only a nightmare. I’m watching over you. _

Another voice, more familiar than any he had heard yet, said:

_ Help me, Ben. You're my only hope. _

His eyes flew open.

He gasped, half-falling, and he sensed Rey once more. She fell to her knees, throwing up her weapon to stop a blow. He reached up with her, scarlet lightsaber flashing into his hand, and felt the shock of the blow running down his hand and arm. She was out in the storm, shivering with cold and adrenaline, bleeding from a gash under one eye and half-dragging her right leg. Icy rain dripped into her eyes, but she didn't dare to even blink. She held two lightsabers somehow, bright and blue against the dark, looming forms of the Knights of Ren. Blaster bolts sizzled out from the gangplank, sparking against the cold, dark rocks.

She was terrified, frozen by horror and scorched by anger, but there were those behind her that she would give her life to protect. So she rose once more to her feet, lightsabers whirling, and Kylo - dazed - rose with her.

He was the one who stepped forward to take the first blow, while raising the second lightsaber to deflect a blaster bolt from down the canyon, where Zaijus Ren was waiting. He froze Lornat Ren midstep, as the enormous man bore down on them with his broadsword lifted. Twin lightsabers whirled, knocking back Shrlei Ren as she dove forward with two poison-filled dirks. All three fell back, but Kylo knew that it was but a respite.

Rey stared around, as if looking for something.

“B-Ben?” she gasped.

“Breathe,” he whispered back. He had never felt so powerful, yet so helpless, before. “Just breathe.”

She closed her eyes and let the fear, the pain, the rage flow out of her, breath after breath. They dove down inside of her, into the center.

There was no black knot of pain there - no voices whispering that she was not enough, would never be enough. Instead, there was something cool and bright and clear. It was something he had not felt in so long, something he had never thought he would feel again.

Peace.

Balance.

He lost himself to it.

They were one, in that instant. The power was not in her hand, or in his, but in theirs as they lifted themselves up, and as they rose to their feet everything changed. The rain froze, droplets suspended like thousands of diamonds. Lighting hung in the air, caught in an instant of astonishing brilliance. It reflected in the gleaming masks of the Knights of Ren, the astonished eyes of the Resistance huddling in the shelter of the ship. Blaster bolts vibrated in mid-air.

A rumble, something like thunder, began to build inside of them, coming from that warm place of peace. Every atom in their bodies vibrated, hot and alive. The Resistance and the Knights of Ren shielded their faces from the sudden brilliant light. Rey cried out, lightsabers falling from fingers gone suddenly numb, and in a cockpit far away, Kylo screamed as well, fingers scraping across the cockpit floor.

The concussion that ripped out of them an instant later was so loud that it seemed silent. A beam of magenta light shot skyward, tearing through the clouds.

Then it was over, and the wind tore through their hair and clothes once more, rain fell in icy gusts, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. Blaster bolts splashed against the rocks.

“Ben?” Rey whispered.

Before he could answer, he was back in his own cockpit, crouched on the floor, breathing raggedly, heart thundering in his chest.

As he collapsed to the floor, he thought he felt cool fingers smooth back the hair from his face, but before he could open his eyes to see who it was, he toppled into blackness.


	11. Revelations

Rey opened her eyes slowly, dragging her sluggish mind away from confusing dreams that scattered from her consciousness like dew before the rising sun. Her limbs felt as heavy as lead, but all of the pain that she remembered from before was gone. She blinked, taking in her surroundings slowly.

Rain lashed against a small viewport nearby, but she was warm and comfortable, lying in an unfamiliar medbay, alone apart from Finn, who nodded in a seat nearby. She watched him in silence for a moment, a feeling of warmth and protectiveness filling her chest beyond capacity. As if he sensed her gaze, Finn’s head lifted and he looked back at her, a brilliant grin spreading over his face.

“Did we win?” she asked softly.

“Rey!” He leaped from his seat and knelt by her side, pulling her up into a tight embrace. She watched him carefully for any signs of injury. He wheezed slightly, and there was a red stain over one eye, but he seemed to have sustained no permanent damage from his encounter with the assassins. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung tightly, finding herself near tears for the first time since she had first sensed the looming danger.

“Are you all right?” he whispered hoarsely, leaning back far enough to survey her from head to foot. He touched the new scar under her eye and winced. “Rey - what were you thinking? Trying to take on all those monsters by yourself?”

She didn’t reply, burying her head in his shoulder, but she was remembering now. She had been beaten, about to die, and then  _ he _ was there with her. Ben. He had been there with her somehow, as much a part of her as the air that she breathed. She could still feel him, like an itch at the back of her mind, although the sensation was rapidly fading. The dreams she had been so wrapped up in had all been about him, she remembered suddenly. Running, trying to find him. Calling out his name. She breathed in Finn’s scent and drew herself away, back to the present.

“Where are we?” she asked, looking around the room. It was obviously a much newer ship than the  _ Falcon _ , all shiny white and chrome with recessed lighting. Finn followed her gaze, and he smiled widely.

“That light you made - the signal - whatever it was - saved us.”

She frowned in confusion. “It did?”

He rose and held out a hand for her. “You’ll see.”

She slung her legs off the bed, using his hand for leverage, stood, and nearly collapsed onto her face. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close, and for a moment she stared up into his soft brown eyes, hardly able to breathe.

“Hey, you ok?” he asked softly. “Do you need to sit down?”

She swallowed hard and shook her head. “No . . . no. I’m all right. Just a little wobbly.”

Finn chuckled. “A few hours in a bacta tank will have that effect. Come on.”

They walked out of the medbay and into a bustling ship, alive with soldiers and techs and medics dressed in grey, with a strange insignia in black and gold that Rey didn’t recognize. She saw Finn watching her and grinning, and she knew that she was staring with an open mouth at the astonishing scene. She was so used to thin rations and even thinner ranks - this was almost overwhelming.

“Wh - where did this all come from?” she whispered.

They entered the bridge, and she almost shrunk back behind Finn as every person turned to look at her, and whispers ran up and down the room like a breeze. The entire command crew rose to their feet, clapping, nodding in approval as Finn half-dragged her towards the command station. Halfway across the room they were met by a tall man in a swirling blue cape, with dark skin and close-cropped silver hair, who smiled warmly at Rey and offered her a gallant hand.

“Welcome aboard the  _ Fool’s Luck _ ,” he said. “We’re all so glad you’re on your feet again. I’m Lando Calrissian.”

Rey frowned. The name rung a bell - “Didn’t you win the Battle of Taanab?”

Lando grinned, shaking his head. “I’ll never outlive that one, will I?”

“As if you wanted to,” Finn returned, smiling as well. “Rey has a few questions, and I thought you were best qualified to set her mind at rest.”

“Of course!” Lando opened his arms expansively. “I - and this entire fleet - are at your disposal, little lady.”

Rey frowned harder at the moniker, but before she could speak they were interrupted.

“They’re back, sir,” a tech said, striding up to Lando. Her arms were held correctly at her sides, but her gaze strayed to Rey with evident interest.

“Oh, good!” Lando nodded his thanks. “I was starting to worry. Send them in here right away.” He turned back to Rey. “Someone will be glad to see you’re on your feet.”

“ _ Rey _ !” Poe’s voice echoed around the room.

She had half-turned when she heard a familiar howl and an instant later Chewbacca’s hairy arms were around her, nearly lifting her right off her feet. She gasped, half-joy and half-pain, and heard Finn yelling:

“ _ Hey, _ watch it you walking shag rug! She’s still recovering!”

Chewbacca ignored him, but he did set Rey down gently a moment later and loosened his grip. Softly, he growled something that she understood to mean, <<Sorry I was late.>>

“Don’t worry about it. You came back,” she said, smiling from him to Poe, who came in for a hug of his own - thankfully much more gentle.

“Yeah,” Lando echoed. “We searched for your location for hours, but the storm was messing with our systems and we had to stay in the upper atmosphere. Then we saw that . . . pink light . . . What  _ was _ that?”

“Yeah, what exactly happened, Rey?” Poe asked, his eyes still wide with something like amazement. “I’ve never seen - or _ heard of  _ \- anything like it.”

_ Balance. Perfect balance. We were in perfect harmony with the Force. Anything was possible. _

Rey couldn’t say any of those things without explaining more than she wanted to reveal. She shrugged and said, trying to sound careless, “Oh, it’s just a trick that Master Luke taught me. I’m relieved it worked - obviously it takes a lot out of you.”

She glanced at Finn and saw a frown cross his face, but he said nothing.

“Well, don’t do it again if it’s going to knock you out for hours,” Poe said, almost completely serious for once. “We thought we’d lost you for a moment there.”

Rey spoke hastily to divert the topic. “Where did all of this come from?” She gestured vaguely to indicate the ship around them.

“Chewie found my operations - you still have to tell me how you did that -” Lando said, wagging a finger at the Wookie. “- and called in a favor or two. I was getting bored of being rich and idle anyway, so I rounded up my people and some ships and here we are!”

Chewbacca let out a short roar. Lando nodded.

“That’s right. The flagship is on loan from my old friend Talon Kaarde, and he wants it back in one piece.” He shook his head. “I get nervous thinking about that.”

“Flagship?” Rey whispered in amazement. “How many ships did you bring?”

Finn grinned. “Wait until you see.”

“It’s not nearly enough to challenge the First Order head-on,” Lando said cautioningly, “But we should be able to hold our own again.”

“X-wings, Rey - we have X-wings again.” Poe grinned with excitement.

“Of course, as our highest-ranking officer, you'll be on the flagship instead of flying an X-wing,” Finn said, lips quirking into a smile.

“What?” Poe looked horrified. He turned to Lando. “General, I thought you were taking command.”

Lando shook his head, chuckling. “Sorry, hotshot. I’m here in an advisory capacity only.”

Poe sank down onto a nearby console, eyes wide with horror, and Rey hid a smile as she turned back to Lando. Finn was speaking seriously, frowning at the ground.

“Now that we have a semblance of a fleet again, it’s time to start moving forward on the Utrav IIV plan. We haven’t heard back from the bounty hunter yet, but we have made promising strides on -”

“Mechanics report,” Rose called from the doorway. She caught sight of Rey and broke into a run, tears standing out in her eyes. “ _ Rey! _ ”

Rey opened her arms and caught Rose in a tight embrace.

“I am so relieved you're all right!” Rose cried, stepping back and wiping tears away from her grin.

“ _ You _ saved my life,” Rey reminded her.

“Oh,” Rose said with a blush, obviously pleased, “that was nothing. The very least I could do.”

“You said you had a report, lieutenant?” Poe prompted gently.

“Right!” Rose flushed deeper and turned to face the commander. “It's worse than I thought. The  _ Falcon _ was damaged in the storm. She won’t be able to leave for a day, at least.”

Poe scowled. “We need to rendezvous with the Ithorians in thirty hours,” he muttered. “They respect politeness, especially punctuality.”

Chewbacca roared.

“I don't need  _ that _ translated,” Poe grinned. “I hate to leave anyone behind, especially with those assassins still lurking around.”

“I’ll stay with Chewie,” Rey said. “I’m a good mechanic, we’ll have her up and running fast.”

Chewbacca roared, hefting his bowcaster meaningfully.

“That's a bad idea,” Finn snapped. “You barely survived the last attack.”

“Thank you,” Rey said, taking his hand. “That’s what Chewie just said. I'm going to stay, anyway.”

“You know I don’t speak that,” he muttered, casting a nervous look at the towering Wookie.

“You’ll need help with the repairs,” Rose said. She was still pale, but her eyes gleamed with a steely light.

“I’m staying, too,” Lando volunteered, stepping forward with a grin for Rey. “You’ll need backup, and although I hate to admit it, I’ve missed the old boat.”

Rey nodded, but she was frowning. “There’s one thing I still don’t understand. Where did those masked men go?”

“When the fleet arrived, they took off.” Poe shook his head ruefully. “Chewie and I followed them as far as we could, but they . . .  didn’t like that. So we tracked them to their ship using our scanners.” He touched a singe mark on his cheek and winced. “I’m getting the feeling that these weren’t run-of-the-mill assassins.”

“They weren’t,” Finn said, shaking his head. Everyone turned to look at him. He blanched. “You didn’t know? Those were the Knights of Ren.”

Rose went white, and even Lando let out a low whistle. “Those were the Knights, huh? I’ll be.” He cast Rey a thoughtful look.

Poe’s fist clenched around his blaster. “So the new Supreme Leader still considers us a threat.”

“Not  _ us _ ,” Finn said, jerking a thumb at Rey. “Her.”

Rey tried to feel surprised, but she had to admit to herself that she had known it would be something like this all along. The black-caped, helmeted figures looming out of the smoke had reminded her too strongly of her first encounter with Kylo Ren for it to be anything else.

Finn continued, staring blankly at nothing. “The Knights are sort of . . . specialized. There’s a reason you’ve never heard much about them, but it’s no secret that they’ve made wiping out the few remaining Jedi their top priority. That’s why they call Kylo Ren ‘the Jedi Killer.’” He paused. “Because he’s killed the most, presumably. But the others have the same agenda.”

“So now they’re after our Jedi,” Poe muttered. “Great.”

Chewbacca’s roar was his loudest and most outraged yet.

“I’ll be fine!” Rey put a hand on his hairy arm. “I fought them off once, didn’t I?”

“Barely,” Rose murmured, still white to the lips.

Poe just nodded firmly. “This only makes our mission more important. They’re trying to snuff out hope in the galaxy, and we can’t let them.”

Chewbacca grunted and turned to leave. Rey and Rose followed, but Finn hesitated, glancing around for Lando.

“I’ll follow you in a bit, kid,” Lando said, winking. “I’ve got to pack first. I know what the accommodations are like aboard the  _ Falcon _ .”

“We’ll send the rendezvous point over a secure channel,” Poe said. “Contact us when the  _ Falcon _ is ready to fly again.”

  
  


Kylo Ren woke with a start when a boot nudged his side, none too gently. He rolled up onto his knees, sleep-addled brain struggling to make sense of what he was seeing, still half-caught in dreams.

“Rey?” he croaked out, wiping dark hair out of his mouth and eyes.

“No, it’s just us - your friends,” Shrlei Ren said loudly, caustically. “Don’t be too disappointed.”

Kylo struggled to his feet - every limb felt weak, strained, as if he had lifted a mountain on his shoulders. He glanced around at the Knights of Ren, who looked back at him, faceplates shiny with rain and unreadable. Only Cadjair Ren’s face was visible, and he glared at Kylo with contempt he no longer troubled to conceal.

“What happened, Kylo?” Aloadr Ren asked, voice tightly controlled. “Shrlei and I both felt your presence with the girl, stopping us from killing her.”

“Following _ your _ orders,” Lornat Ren rumbled, hands tightening on his sword. “What changed, Master?”

Kylo turned to anger, his old standby. “Are you questioning me?” He stalked up to Lornat, snarling down into the masked face.

“Maybe it’s time one of us did,” Lornat growled back, not giving an inch.

Aloadr, predictably, thrust himself between them and shoved Lornat Ren back with one swift Force Push. “Of course not, Kylo,” he said somewhat anxiously. “We just - need to understand what’s going on.”

“You owe us that much,  _ Master _ ,” Shrlei said, her voice echoing mockingly inside her helmet. She pulled a holotransmitter from her tunic and held it out. “I’m sure you’ll be fascinated by this transmission we just received from General Hux.”

The holo flickered to life, showing a miniature recording of General Hux standing correct with feet wide and hands clasped behind his back.  _ “This message is for the Knights of Ren, top priority. I’m receiving your signal from the Outer Rim.” _ He paused. “ _ Ah, and you’re with  _ Master  _ Kylo. Excellent. _ ” He unknowingly mimicked Shrlei’s mocking emphasis on Kylo’s title.

“What is this?” Kylo snapped.

The recording of Hux continued speaking.  _ “My techs have unearthed holo feeds from the wreckage of the  _ Supremacy _. I trust you will know what to do with them.” _

The image flickered and was replaced by a tiny replica of Snoke’s once-intimidating throne room.  Rey knelt on the floor in the center, Kylo looming over her. Snoke leaned forward on his throne, watching with avid eyes. Kylo watched as the lightsaber cut clean through Snoke’s torso and flew towards the tiny him, only to be caught by Rey’s hand.

He recalled feeling triumph in that moment. When she stood and met his eyes, hope flooding through her. Now, only ashes remained.

“I don’t think there’s much to explain,” he said quietly as the tiny Rey and Ren wrecked havoc among Snoke’s bodyguards. Rage had deserted him. He was exhausted.

“I already told them that you had a plan,” Alaodr said with a nervous chuckle. “That you had a good reason -”

“I did it for her,” Kylo said slowly and clearly. “She is my past, present, and future.”

The silence was breathless.

“But - what about us?” Spejar growled, hands clenching into fists.

“ _ Traitor _ !” Zajjus Ren screamed, voice cracking at the tail end of the word.

They closed on him in a moment, the pommel of Spejar Ren’s staff catching him on the side of the head with an echoing  _ crack _ . He staggered to the side, just in time for Shrlei’s kick to connect with his already-sore knee, and he collapsed face-first on the deck.

He didn’t fight back. What was the point? He deserved this, a thousand times over.

Lornat seized him by the hair and one arm and dragged him from the ship, out into the lashing rain, then threw him down the gangplank. He rolled heavily, slamming to a halt against  jagged rocks at the bottom of a cliff. He barely had time to regain his breath before the attack began again. One kick broke his nose - another shattered three ribs.

He stared up at the sky through a haze of blood, watching as clouds drifted through the rocks in ragged wisps, listening to the wheeze of air struggling to enter his lungs as it was kicked out of him again - and again - and again. He felt no pain.

“I said  _ that’s enough _ ,” Alaodr cried, knocking them all away with a violent shove of the Force. “He’s had enough!”

The Knights backed away, breathing heavily, fists clenched, steaming in the cold air. Spejar Ren spoke first, a disgusted whisper.

“What happened to you? You were the strongest of all of us - now look at you.” He turned away and strode back to the ship. “He’s not even worth killing. Let’s just leave him here to rot.”

Alaodr knelt and removed his helmet, the sheen of sweat on his forehead glistening in the grey light. “Kylo - you have to tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you if I don’t understand. Is it the girl? We can still fix this -”

“Remember when we were kids in the Jedi temple, Chel?” Kylo whispered, half-blinded by blood and water. He looked up into his oldest friend’s face, remembering quiet days under the sun, the excitement of making a lightsaber, sparring on a mat as the other children cheered.

Alaodr’s face went still. “Don’t call me that,” he snapped. “That boy is dead - you know that.”

Kylo shook his head. “I used to tell myself that, too.” He chuckled, wincing as the movement jarred his broken nose. “Because it was easier . . . than accepting what we let ourselves become. But we were fooling ourselves. Ben Solo is alive - and so is Chel Ganya.”

Alaodr went mad. He reached out with the Force and slammed Kylo into the cliff, over and over again, his anger crumbling the rocks until they rained down, dust mingling with the mist. He cried out through clenched teeth, “ _ Don’t. Call. Me. That. _ ”

Abruptly, he stopped, and Kylo fell heavily to the ground. Alaodr turned away, one hand clenched over his face, his shoulders hunched. There was silence for a long moment, long enough for Zaijus, the quiet one, the Sniper, to finally find words. He crouched down beside Kylo, head tilted behind the expressionless mask.

“You lied, then.” He cradled his rifle to his chest and rocked back heavily on his heels. His shoulders slumped. “When we swore never to look back - you lied.”

“I was wrong, Miltelli,” Kylo said. He tried to smile, but wasn’t sure he managed it. He couldn't feel much of his face anymore. “I never wanted to disappoint you.”

Zaijus stiffened at the sound of his real name, but said nothing in reply. Simply turned away, face turned down towards the glistening rocks under their feet. Shrlei stepped forward then.

She gestured. “Get him to his feet.”

Lornat and Spejar grabbed him from either side, roughly lifting him until his feet dragged against the rocks. Lornat had one arm twisted ruthlessly behind his back, hard enough that the muscles and tendons in his shoulder felt as if they would rip at any moment. If he struggled, lightning-hot pain shot from shoulder into the center of his torso. So he didn't struggle, simply hung limply, head tilted back against his shoulder, watching Shrlei through a haze of  blood and pain.

“You think you can hide behind that mask?” he said hoarsely. “I know your real name, Zelde. I know all your names.”

“Then you’re too dangerous to be left alive,” Shrlei murmured, coming forward in one swift rush. Silver glinted in her hand - Kylo bit back a scream as the dirk entered his side just under the ribcage. The faceplate of her mask glinted as she twisted the knife, then drew it out. Warm liquid gushed out, and he found himself falling, rolling among the rocks in agony. The world went white around the edges. He stared up at the masked faces looking down at him. The rain pattered into his eyes.

“You’re no Knight of Ren,” Alaodr scoffed. His mask was back on, shiny metal and glass giving no insight to his emotions. He bent and wrenched the lightsaber off of Kylo's belt. “You’re not Ben Solo. You’re nothing.”

He held out a hand, and rocks tumbled from the cliff face, smashing down on Kylo until the entire world was black.

As his mind fell, spiraling, it went directly to her. As if she were the gravity that held him to the surface of the planet. As if she were the only anchor that connected him to the entire universe. The only name he could remember.

_ Rey. _


	12. Venom

_ Ben _ .

Rey’s eyes snapped open.

She sat up sharply in her bunk, hands pressed against a searing pain in her lower abdomen, gasping for breath.

_ Something’s wrong. _

“. . . say something?” Rose muttered from the top bunk, shifting sleepily.

“Nothing. Bad dream.” Rey spoke in a whisper, struggling to control her labored breathing. “Go back to sleep.”

Rose said nothing in reply, but a quick scan of her mind reassured Rey that she had returned to a peaceful sleep untroubled by dreams of blackness and pain.

Rey shifted, lowering herself back onto the pillow, wincing as she jarred her injured shoulder. Only that was crazy - she hadn’t injured her shoulder.  _ He _ had. She closed her eyes, unconsciously doing what she had sworn she wouldn’t - she reached out, searching . . . searching.

_ Cold _ .

She shuddered, wanting to roll over onto her side and curl up, but she was pinned - trapped. Suffocating. Pain like fire in her veins.

_ Ben _ .

She shot up in bed, gasping, trembling all over.

_ I have to find him.  _ She sat back against the bulkhead, sucking in breath after breath, trying to calm her racing heart. After a moment, she jumped out of bed and hurried through the silent ship. 

Lando was on watch in the cockpit, feet up on the dash and hands tucked into armpits. He glanced around when she came in and smiled.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he said.

She smiled weakly in return. “Just nerves, I guess. Any update on the assassins?”

Lando leaned forward, lowering his feet to the floor, and flicked on a computer that hummed asthmatically. “Our scanners tracked a ship leaving the planet almost two hours ago,” he said. “Most likely those Knights that your friend was talking about.”

She nodded, frowning. So he had left the planet. Then why this urgent need to go out into the cold rain and find him?

“Uh-oh,” Lando said, eyes narrowed on her face. “I’ve seen that look before.”

She frowned. “You - you have?”

“I’ve been around Jedi for a long time, and that look -” He pointed to her face. “- That thousand-parsec stare, that’s trouble. What’s eating you?”

Rey breathed deeply, seeking calm. “I can’t really explain.” She indicated the readout he had accessed. “I need to go to where that ship was, fast.”

“There’s nothing there,” Lando said with a frown. “I did a couple of passes with the scanner.”

Her hand clamped down on her side, where the pain was still spreading. She bit hard on her lower lip. “Something’s still there. Trust me.”

Chewbacca muttered from behind her, and she glanced around to see him and his bunkmate Finn blinking in the doorway.

“Sorry, Chewie,” Lando said. “Whatever it is, I think we need to listen.”

Rey couldn’t meet Chewie or Finn’s eyes. She kept her gaze on the readout, chewing on her lip.

“Poe left us a speeder in the cargo hold,” Finn said. “It can carry three.”

Not ten minutes later, Rey was piloting the speeder through the drizzly canyon, following the directions that Lando shouted in her ear. Finn was silent, a worry that she pushed to the back of her mind to deal with later. Chewbacca’s farewell roar still rung in her ears.

Worry pulsed through her along with pain.  _ Ben _ .

“This is the spot,” Lando said, glancing around. Rey followed his gaze, her heart dropping into her boots. There was nothing to see - nothing but rain-slicked rocks and damp grey drizzle.

She caught a sudden movement in the corner of her eye and spun, staff jumping into her hand, blades flaring to life. “Who’s there?” she cried.

After a moment, a hooded figure stepped out from behind a stand of rocks. Rey’s heart leaped.

He pushed back his hood to reveal stringy white hair, a pale, wrinkled face, and sharp brown eyes. A large blaster rifle was held almost casually in his hands, pointed directly at Rey’s chest.

Lando stepped in front of her, hands spread wide. “Whoa! Don’t shoot, old-timer. We’re not looking for trouble. You got a name?”

“I’m Harl, and this is my land,” the old man said, eyes narrowing. “Care to explain why you're trespassing?”

“You want to point that rifle somewhere else?” Finn snarled, stepping forward.

“Careful, son,” Lando put a hand on Finn's arm, nodding at the old man in a placating fashion. “We're lucky he was polite enough to ask questions first.”

The old man’s gaze had wandered back to Rey, and they regarded each other silently for a moment. “Jedi, huh?” The old man spat expressively into the mud. “The last time one of you came here, he abandoned us to die. You’ll find no friends on Jabiim.”

“A ship landed near here,” Rey said, blinking water out of her eyes. “I think someone's still here - someone who is badly injured.”

Harl squinted at her. “I saw the ship - kept an eye on it until it left. Didn't like the look of it, if I'm honest. Friends of yours?” His hand tightened on his gun.

“Not exactly,” Finn growled. “They were sent here to kill her.”

Rey couldn’t stand to waste one more instant arguing. She deactivated her lightsabers and slung the staff onto her back, then turned towards the blank rocks surrounding them.

“Don’t shoot, kriff it!” Lando sounded almost hysterical. “Something’s wrong - can’t you see that?”

Her unsteady legs carried her directly towards a cliff that towered up into the stormy sky. At its foot was a fresh rockfall, the raw faces untouched by moss.  _ Here. _ Her mouth trembled, unsure if it was going to laugh or cry.

“Rey - what are you doing?” Finn’s voice was carefully-calm.

_ Lifting rocks. _ If she hadn’t been so afraid, she would have smiled.

“Step back,” she murmured. Everyone hastened to obey - even Harl shuffled back a few steps. She lifted one hand towards the rockfall and breathed in deeply, reaching out with her mind as Luke had taught her. For a long moment, nothing happened.

Then the rocks began to click together, shuddering violently. Mist boiled off them as if they were suddenly hot. Then they rose up, each boulder and pebble distinct and separate.

“Well - I’ll - be . . .” she heard Harl mutter.

“There’s a body down there!” Lando hissed. “Quick, we need to get him out of there.”

Rey didn’t wait for that. She gestured, and the rocks hanging in the air flung themselves off to either side, crashing into the cliffs with enough force to shake the ground. Before they even landed, she was racing toward the crumpled black shape underneath the cliff.

She dropped to her knees by his side and struggled to shift him, but her suddenly nerveless fingers could barely find the strength to clutch uselessly at the heavy black fabric of his cloak.

“Help me!” she yelled, and Finn and Lando were there. Together they rolled him over onto his back, and she swallowed a cry, biting back tears. Half his hair and face were black and sticky with blood. The whites of his eyes were visible under dark lashes, and greenish foam leaked from the corners of his white lips. Bruises were darkening on his jaw and both eyes. His clothes were torn, gashes in the black revealing pale skin underneath.

Finn gasped, and his eyes widened.

Lando whistled softly. “Is that . . . Ben Solo?”

Finn rocked back onto his heels, jaw working with anger. “Perfect, someone’s done our work for us. Looks like he won’t make it through the night.”

Rey gasped soundlessly, hot tears standing out in her eyes. She could barely stand to see him like this, as cold and limp as a corpse. The pain in her side flared, and she gasped, doubling over.

“Rey, are you all right?” Finn’s warm hands closed over her arms, and she leaned her forehead against his chest, trying to steady her breathing while tears dripped down her face and mingled with the icy rainwater.

“It hurts, Finn - it burns,” she gasped, hands pressing against her abdomen.

“Are you hurt?” he said, reaching down to move her hands away.

“Not  _ me, _ ” she hissed, shoving him back with one hand and pointing a trembling finger at Kylo’s unmoving mass.

Finn stared uncomprehendingly, but Lando nodded at once and moved quickly, unbuckling Kylo’s belt and pulling back the heavy quilted tunic to reveal a pale torso mottled with bruises. And there on the right side, a stab wound almost as wide as Rey’s palm.

“We need to get him to a doctor,” Lando snapped. He turned towards Harl. “Where’s the nearest medical facility? I’ll pay handsomely for your help.”

Harl swayed from foot to foot, glaring down the sight of his rifle. Then he sighed heavily and lowered the weapon.

“I was a medic in the Clone Wars,” he said grudgingly. “Let’s get him back to my place and I’ll take a look at him.”

Rey lurched to her feet, nodding thanks, and raised her hand again, this time focusing on Kylo’s inert body. He lifted into the air, head lolling, robes flapping and tangling in the wind. She got him onto the speeder with Lando’s help, seated behind her with his dead weight pressing down on her like a stone.

“I can take two passengers on my speeder,” Harl said, stumping away through the rain.

“Finn, you and Lando go with him,” Rey said. “He’s so heavy I’m worried it’ll slow the speeder down.”

Finn ignored this and clambered onto the speeder behind Kylo. He grabbed the cold body and levered it away from Rey until it rested back against him, and held it there with both arms, scowling in disgust.

“I am  _ not _ leaving you alone with him. I don’t care if he’s half-dead.”

Rey didn’t bother arguing. She kicked the speeder into gear and waited impatiently until Harl zoomed away down a smaller side canyon, and she moved the speeder to follow him.

Harl’s home was a few klicks away, a comfortable house and barn built against the side of a cliff. He led them into the barn, flicking on a light and shoving random odds and ends off of a bench to make room for Rey to set Kylo’s body down. She settled him down as gently as possible and stepped back, chewing on one thumbnail. Finn stood nearby, disapproval stiffening every line of his body, hands clenched around his blaster. Harl stood next to Kylo and began probing with two experienced fingers, up and down the cold flesh, paying special attention to the ribs and the blood-stained slash.

Finn was silent for a moment, but then he nodded heavily as if coming to a decision. He turned to Rey. “How did you know he was out here?”

She was too tired and worn too raw to dissemble. The truth felt like a relief now. “I’m connected to him through the Force. He appears to me, and I to him. I feel what he feels, and he feels what I feel. If he dies . . .” She choked on the thought. “I couldn’t let him die.”

“This is one of those Jedi things I wouldn't get, right?” Finn shook his head, a muscle going in and out of his jaw furiously. “And how long has this been going on?”

“Since Ahch-to.” She shuddered. “Maybe before - I'm not sure.”

“And you didn’t tell me? Didn’t tell anyone? Wait.” 

She almost stepped back from the depth of fury and betrayal in his dark eyes.

He reeled as if slapped. “Is this how they’ve been able to find us so easily? Have you been leading him to us?”

“Finn!” She blinked back tears. “How could you think that? Of course not!”

“Don't say ‘of course not’ as if I'm supposed to believe you, even after . . .” He trailed off, blinking hard. “Are you . . . are you in love with him?”

Her lip trembled. “I wish it were that simple.”

“Boy’s gone and broken half his ribs,” Harl said, and Rey turned to listen. “He’s lucky that his lungs are still intact. The nose is definitely broken, and the jaw might be fractured as well. I’ll need to sew up the gash on his forehead as well as the knife wound.”

“Sounds painful, but not deadly,” Lando said. “So he might be all right?”

Harl grunted. “There’s something I don’t like about that cut,” he said. “Most likely the blade was poisoned.”

Rey clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle a gasp. Tears blinded her, and her other hand wrapped around the handle of her lightsaber for stability.

Harl continued, “He's lucky it's so cold, or the poison would have killed him already.”

“I've seen this before,” Lando said, frowning at the oozing wound and sniffing the foam on Kylo’s face. “Cresht venom.” He turned slightly and began rummaging in a concealed pocket of his cape, finally emerging triumphant with a small glass vial in his hand. “This should do it.”

Harl cocked an eyebrow. “You carry antidotes around with you?”

“Listen, when you’re as successful as I am, it’s safe to assume you’ve made a few enemies.” Lando nodded to the body lying on the bench. “It works quickly, but it’s only effective in the first few hours after poisoning.”

Finn stepped forward suddenly, mouth contorted into a scowl and eyebrows lowered. “Why are we doing this?” he growled. “Saving him? He’s a  _ murderer _ .”

Harl didn’t pause as he prepared the syringe to administer the antidote, but his eyes flickered over Kylo’s face thoughtfully.

“You don’t mean that, Finn,” Rey said softly.

“Read my mind,” he shot back, his eyes dark with anger.

She stepped back, fear and sorrow battling within her breast.

“This boy is the son of my best friends,” Lando said. “I’m not sitting here and watching him die.”

“Han? You mean Han Solo - the man that he killed?” Finn shook his head furiously. “Ok, so we save him - what then? We take him back to the  _ Falcon _ , to the Resistance?”

Lando raised an eyebrow, glancing around at Finn. “Is this going to be a problem?”

Finn folded his arms tightly, nostrils flaring. “I don’t want him anywhere near Rose, and Chewie will kill him as soon as he sees him - which is what we should have done.”

“Chewie?” Lando shook his head. “Don’t let anger make you talk nonsense, kid. Chewie’s doted on that boy since he was barely an hour old. We all did.”

Finn scoffed. “That was a long time ago. I was a kid once, too - and I didn’t have any doting parents giving me hugs or coming after me when I was taken away from them. I made my decision, and he made his.”

“If we let him die, we’re no better than he is,” Lando’s eyes narrowed with some swirling emotion that Rey could not identify. “You think you have the guts for cold-blooded murder?”

Finn seized this with an eager nod. “I never said murder. Just don’t do anything - let nature take its course. Let him pay for his sins.”

Lando sucked in a deep breath, visibly calming himself. He slumped in his seat, staring down at Kylo’s face. Harl tapped the syringe full of antidote, glancing around.

“It seems to me that the person who should really make this decision hasn’t said much. Well, Jedi?” He met Rey’s eyes squarely.

“Exactly,” Lando shuffled around in his seat to look at her. “You brought us here to save him. Why?”

“You said it yourself, Rey,” Finn said in a softer tone, stepping forward with a hand reached out to touch her shoulder. “He’s a monster. So why go to all this trouble just to save his life?”

“Because it’s not as simple as that, and you know it!” The words burst out of Lando as a shout. Finn stepped back as if shoved, eyes wide. “You can’t reduce a person down to one word just to make killing easier. Sure, maybe he killed Han, but he also made Han happier than anyone or anything I’ve ever seen. Han didn’t die on Starkiller base that day - he died six years ago, when Ben left and joined Snoke.” He closed his mouth against the flow of words, shuddering, eyes fixed on Kylo’s pale, scarred face. “This isn’t just a person we’ve got lying here. This is Han Solo and Leia Organa’s heart - all that's left of them. And I’m not going to let you kill him, even by neglect.”

“If neither of you is going to see sense -” Finn began, hands curling into fists as he stalked towards Kylo.

Rey moved then, at last, stepped between Finn and the body on the bench. Her lightsaber was in her hand somehow, not lit. She met Finn’s eyes and held them.

Over her shoulder she said, “Save him.”

Harl nodded. “That’s it, then.” Turning, he plunged the syringe into Kylo’s neck and emptied it in one smooth movement.

They stood for a moment in silence.

“So that’s how it is,” Finn whispered.

Rey took in a calming breath, closed her eyes, and nodded. Finn turned on his heel and strode out of the shed, back into the rain. Rey watched him go, blinking back tears.

Lando’s hand touched her arm comfortingly. “Thank you,” he said simply.

She turned away from the empty doorway, slung her lightsaber over her back, and spoke in a voice that only trembled slightly. “Is that it? Will he be all right now?”

“Not by half,” Harl said. “I need to sew him up, and he should be feeling the antidote any second -”

Kylo's body convulsed suddenly, every muscle tightening under the waxy skin. Cords stood out on his neck, and his eyelashes fluttered, the whites of his eyes gleaming underneath.

“Hold him!” Lando yelled. He threw himself over half of Kylo's torso, pinning him down, but it was like trying to ride a bucking horse. “Rey -”

“You - Jedi!” Harl threw words at her over his shoulder as he labored with needle and thread at the knife wound on Kylo's stomach. “Hold his hand - talk to him! See if you can calm him down!”

Rey nodded. She took two quick steps forward and grasped one large, cold hand with both of hers, fingers stroking gently as if to warm up the clay-like flesh. “Ben,” she whispered, blinking back tears. “Ben, can you hear me? I'm here, Ben, I'm really here. Just hold on, we'll get through this together . . .”


	13. Memory

_ Rey _ .

Ben closed his hand, feeling her warm fingers stroking the skin. But when he opened his eyes, the only thing he held was empty air. For a moment he lay still, trying to recapture the warm feeling of fingers wrapped around his, her voice murmuring his name. It must have been a dream. She hadn’t said his name so gently since that time in the elevator, and then it had only been because she wanted something from him. He forced himself to focus on his surroundings instead.

He was lying on a hard surface in a dark room, naked apart from a blanket, and aching from head to toe. His head and right side were competing for the title of Most Painful. He sat halfway upright and let out an involuntary groan as an electric line of pain ran from the right side of his abdomen down to his foot.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

He jerked around, breath hissing through his teeth as fresh waves of pain nearly sent him reeling back into unconsciousness. “Who's there?”

An old man came through the door, carrying a tray and a pile of clothes. He raised an eyebrow when he saw Ben sitting up and said in a dry tone:

“If you've ripped out your stitches I'm not going to sew you up again.”

“Who are you?” Been looked around the small, bare room. “Where am I?”  _ Where's Rey _ , he thought, but kept the words sealed behind his lips.

“I'm Harl,” the old man said, stepping up next to him and setting the tray and clothes down. “You're in my shed, where you should be resting. But I can see that's not really your thing,” he mused, studying the dark bags under Ben’s eyes and the lines of exhaustion carved into his face.

“ _ Why _ am I here?” Ben asked quietly.

“You'd rather be back where I found you?” Harl’s eyebrow quirked upwards.

Ben didn't respond.

“You’re lucky I was watching through my ‘nocs,” Harl said gruffly. “I saw what those masked killers did. If I hadn't gotten there when I did, you’d never have made it. As it is, I found you cold as ice, three-quarters-dead and buried under a pile of rocks.”

Ben nodded absently. This certainly matched up to his last memories, fractured though they were.

He gestured to the clothes. “I tried to clean and mend yours, but, apart from the boots, they were ruined. Your welcome to any of these that fit. My son-in-law was a big man, but I think you've got an inch or two on him.”

Ben squinted at the clothes - not a one of them was black. He hadn't worn a different color in more than six years.

“Oh, and you'll be on a liquid diet until I'm sure that gut wound is healed up.” Harl wagged a finger in Ben's face. “Drink it all, you need to rebuild your strength.”

Ben automatically pressed his hand to the line of fire on his right side that marked where Shrlei’s blade had pierced him. He blinked as a sudden memory assailed him - her blank mask staring at him as she plunged the blade home. His breath was shaking, and he fought to steady it.

The old man was watching him through narrowed eyes. “Wouldn't kill you to say thanks, kid.”

“Don't call me that,” Ben muttered, but the fire had gone out of his voice. To his own ears, he sounded tired. Resigned.

“Well, I have to call you something.” Ben said nothing. Harl’s shoulders dropped and he sighed in exasperation. “What’s your name, son?”

Ben dropped his head wearily. “It’s  . . . uh . . . Jacen.”

Harl nodded and turned away. “Nice to meet you, Jacen. All of that broth, you hear?” He bustled over to the other side of the room and busied himself with some spare parts and what looked like a speeder engine.

Ben sat on the edge of the bench, legs dangling, blanket wrapped around his lower half, and sipped slowly at the broth, which was salty and flavorful and made him want to gag. Harl looked over meaningfully and Ben swallowed some more, grimacing. His head was throbbing. He touched the bandage and winced at the size of the contusion, then continued feeling around his head with his fingers, frowning.

He looked up to meet Harl’s eyes. “Sorry about the hair. I had to shave some of it to bandage that gash on your head,” he said. “Ok, a lot of it.”

Ben ran a hand through what remained of his hair - caked with mud and stiff with blood. “You still have that razor handy?” he asked.

Harl fetched it off a nearby table and came over. “Bend your head,” he commanded.

Obediently, Ben let his head fall forward, and the razor scraped against the skin of his neck and scalp. He watched as chunks of black hair drifted to the floor. When it was over, he felt colder than ever.

Exhaustion took him then, and he slumped back onto the bench, feeling Harl tuck the blanket around his neck. Then all was black.

The next day, Harl helped him limp across the shed to the ‘fresher and he slumped to the floor of the shower, letting the hot water run over him and watching as dirt and dried blood swirled around the drain. Drying off took a long time, as he gingerly dabbed at his numerous bruises and cuts. It felt strange not to have any hair to towel dry - his scalp felt naked.

He took his time looking through the pile of clothes that Harl had provided, selecting a dark brown shirt that buttoned up to his neck, navy trousers, a robe of rough grey cloth with a thick leather belt, and a thick brown coat with wide sleeves. The clothes were clean and warm, if a little short at wrist and ankle.

The days passed slowly, excruciatingly so, but he knew that he was getting stronger. Soon he could stand without help, or passing out onto the floor. The cut on his forehead knitted together until it was an ugly red scar, and the bruises turned brilliant shades of violet and green. The knife wound threatened to become infected, but after a few days of shivering fever it, too, began reluctantly to heal. He never ventured far beyond the shed, and Harl never invited him to the house.

Harl wasn't the mothering type, but somehow he was always handy when Ben needed help limping to the 'fresher, or when his healing ribs were itching and he needed to be distracted, or when he woke in the middle of the night, gasping for breath and blinking back images of a dark shape looming over him, weapon raised for the killing blow.

The first time this happened, his hand reached for his lightsaber, but there was nothing. 

_ Right. Alaodr has it. _

Harl sat at a bench across the room in a pool of light, tinkering with the engine and not looking around. Ben lay back and scrubbed his hands over his face, attempting to control his breathing and slow his racing heart.

“Don't sleep much, do you?” Harl nodded understandingly, still with his back to Ben. “I know all about nightmares. It gets better.”

Ben wasn’t planning on saying anything, but he heard his own voice croak, “ _ When? _ ”

Harl shrugged. “I’ll let you know when it happens for me,” he said.

For some reason, Ben didn't find this comforting, and he didn't get back into sleep until it was almost morning.

By the third week, he was feeling almost as good as new, and there was already a quarter-inch of stubbly hair covering his scalp. It felt soft and prickly simultaneously when he ran his hand over his head. Harl refused to let him grow his beard in, and sat him down firmly every morning in front of a mirror to shave.

“Can’t have you walking around looking like there’s a scrawny rock rabbit on your face,” he muttered.

Ben’s first solid meal was a tiny portion of mashed vegetables and some kind of stringy meat, but he relished every bite and licked the plate clean. His stomach had shrunk to a miniscule size due to his enforced liquid diet, and although he looked around for more, he already felt stuffed to the gills.

Harl watched him carefully for the next two days, but finally he announced that Ben was ready to eat regularly. This was followed by the announcement that he was going to be leaving.

“I’ve been neglecting the back half for too long,” he said. “There’s plenty of food in the pantry, but don’t leave sight of the homestead! You’re not as strong yet as you think you are.”

He took off on foot, holding a staff and veiled from the ever-present rain by a thick grey poncho. Ben watched him leave from the doorway of the shed, hands clenched behind his back.

Harl was gone for three days, and Ben found himself pacing restlessly, anxious without knowing why. The nightmares worsened until he could barely sleep for an hour at a time, and he prowled around the shed, needing something to do to distract himself.

His eyes lighted on the half-dismantled speeder engine on the work bench, and he flung himself down in front of it. It only took him half the night to find the problem that Harl had been seeking for three weeks - a faulty sensor near the power relay.

The rest of the night he worked on rigging up a solution, and he felt something akin to peace. He had always been good at fixing machines. He felt like a child again, sitting behind his dad, handing him tools as he worked on the problem that the  _ Falcon _ was currently experiencing. He didn't try to analyze the feeling, or chase it, simply let it wash over him until he woke late the next morning, hands covered in engine grease, a spanner still clutched in one hand, with the completed engine sitting in front of him. Harl was there, examining his handiwork and nodding thoughtfully.

“You planning on sleeping the day away, princess?” he said with what Ben might almost have mistaken for fondness. “Or are you going to help me get this back into the speeder?”

The rest of the day they wrestled the engine block back into the gutted speeder, and Ben handed Harl tools as they sat in comfortable silence. When dusk fell, Harl rose to his feet, joints popping audibly, and headed for the house. Ben watched him go, then turned back towards the shed.

“Where do you think you're going, kid?” Harl asked over his shoulder. “I can't keep carrying your dinner all over the place for you. My joints aren't as young as they used to be.”

A warm feeling filled Ben up to the tips of his newly-grown hair, but he kept his face carefully blank as he followed Harl.

For the first time, Ben stepped into the house. It was a simple dwelling, built for comfort with low ceilings, a central fireplace, and well-worn furniture.

Harl prepared a simple meal of cooked cereal and fruit while Ben set the table. They ate in companionable silence, then Ben washed the dishes while Harl brewed a pot of tea and poured it into two large mugs.

They settled down on a couch in front of the drowsing fire, and Harl handed Ben one of the mugs. As Ben sipped, his attention was caught by a holo on a nearby shelf, a portrait of a woman in her late thirties or early forties. Harl had alluded to his daughter several times, but Ben had never seen her likeness before. She had Harl's sharp brown eyes, his long, narrow face, but her hair was thick and chestnut and fell over her shoulders in shining waves.

“Where is she?” he asked.

“Gone - let's see - three years now.” Harl's eyes glittered in the firelight. “The First Order came through Jabiim like a virulent disease.”

“They killed her?”

Harl snorted. “Not exactly. They were recruiting.”

Ben nodded. “She was drafted.”

“Not against her will. My daughter and her husband - especially my daughter - jumped at the chance to join. There's lots of folks here who despise the Republic.”

“Why?” Ben asked.

“Ohh . . .” Harl scratched his chin thoughtfully. “It's all ancient history, now. But there was a battle here, back in the days of the Clone War. The system was loyal to the Republic, but the Separatists invaded, trying to get hold of our ore reserves. The Republic didn't want to lose the system, so they sent a Jedi by the name of Kenobi. And another one, what was his name now? Skywalker, that's it.”

Ben swallowed hard, dropping his eyes to his mug.

“The Republic lost, and abandoned us. That's why most of us here don't put much faith in Jedi, or democracy. It's failed us in the past. Anyway.” He hitched a leg up onto the stool and stared blindly at the fire. “I got the notice about a year ago now. Some kind of skirmish with the Republic. Her ship was shot down over ------- and crashed. All hands lost.”

Ben sat as still as possible, hands clamped around the mug of tea. He remembered that battle - he hadn't been in command, but he remembered how impatient he had felt, watching as ships exploded and lives were lost. All he had cared about was finding Luke . . .

Harl continued to speak, slowly and thoughtfully. “When I first heard, I had this dream every night - that I found her in the wreckage, miraculously alive, and brought her home to nurse her back to health. Or that someone else found her, a stranger, and they called me to tell me that she was waiting for me . . .” His voice cracked and he set down his mug with shaking hands. “I think about your parents waiting for you,” he said, looking at Ben. “I'm glad I can make my dream come true for someone's parents.”

Ben swallowed hard, blinking back tears. “They aren't waiting for me,” he said hoarsely.

Harl chuckled. “That just tells me that you don't have any children,” he said.

The next morning, he woke up on Harl’s couch, with Harl's daughter's holo beaming at him from across the room. Harl was sitting on an armchair nearby, and he glanced over when Ben stirred and sat up. He tossed over a full knapsack, which Ben caught through reflex.

“There’s some extra clothes in there, and food, and all the credits I can spare.” Harl’s voice was gruff. “You’re healed up, for the most part. That knife cut will be fine, as long as you don’t do anything cotton-headed and rip it open again.”

Ben said nothing. He took the knapsack, slung it over one shoulder, and sat waiting.

“You fixed my speeder better than ever. I'll return the favor by dropping you anywhere you want to go.”

Ben considered asking if he could stay, but the look in Harl's eyes didn't encourage it. “I don’t care where I go,” he said finally.

“That’s what I thought you’d say,” Harl replied. “Let’s go, then.”

They drove through the rain for several hours in silence. Finally they rounded a bend in the canyon and a small city came into view. Harl aimed the speeder for the furthest edge of town, where the spaceport was located.

The spaceport was a depressing jumble of grey buildings huddled together against the omnipresent rain, with engineers and techs running around in ponchos and hats, the rumble of sunlight engines barely audible through the soft patter of falling water.

Ben stepped out of the speeder, then turned to the old man. “There's something I want to tell you.”

Harl snorted. “I bet I already know.”

“My name isn't Jacen.”

“I knew that.”

“It's Ben.”

“I knew that, too.”

Ben frowned. “How?”

Harl favored him with a scathing look. “You can't be as simple as you look,” he said. “But if you haven't figured that out by now, maybe I was wrong about that. Safe journey home.”

“Home -” Ben began, then broke off, shaking his head.

Harl grinned, raising a hand. “See you around, kid.”

Then he put the speeder into gear in and in a moment, he was gone.

Ben didn’t waste time with moping. Hiking his knapsack higher on his shoulder, he selected the nearest freighter that didn't look too likely to fall out of the sky and approached the captain, who was inspecting the cargo list.

“You need an extra hand?” Ben said, waving two fingers surreptitiously to drive the point home.

The man’s eyes widened and he murmured, “I need an extra hand.” He gestured to the boxes lined up beside the cargolift. “Get to work.”

Lifting dozens of heavy cargo containers was difficult work, and something that Harl would likely have frowned upon, but Ben welcomed the simple exertion. The crew accepted him without interest, and when the ship left Jabiim he was on it.

He stared out of the viewport, scarcely seeing the planet as it grew distant behind them. He imagined that he could feel small, warm fingers stroking his palm, but his fingers curled shut over empty air.

He was alone.

But not for long.


	14. Betrayal

“You ready to talk about it?” Rose asked for the hundredth time, glancing over at Finn as she steered the landing craft down towards the craggy face of the planet below.

“Watch your vector,” Finn replied, not looking at her as he hunched over a computer readout. “You're almost a full degree low.”

Rose blew out her cheeks and adjusted the ship's approach with more force than was necessary, throwing Finn painfully against his restraints.

“Hey! Watch it!”

She ignored his yelp and focused on keeping the ship steady as they entered Halilon's atmosphere. A desolate planet, a few kilometers too close to its sun, with them and one other ship making up its entire population. The ideal location for a private chat. Rose set the ship down gently, flicked a few switches, and jumped out of her seat.

“Ignoring a problem doesn't make it go away,” she said, throwing a glare at Finn. “Also, never criticize my flying.”

Finn tried to glower back, but his expression soon soured and he unclipped his restraints, muttering, “Let's get this over with.”

The shuttle was parked a few yards away from a nondescript cargo freighter, and someone was already waiting for them, shading her face from the blazing sun.

“Hey there, Cannon Fodder,” G’jera said with a grin. “Where's your pretty Jedi friend?”

Finn ignored the question as he strode down the ramp, Rose trotting by his side. “Well if it isn't the scum scraped off the boot of the galaxy,” he replied with an answering smile. He glanced around. “You didn't lose Ylone, did you?”

“I asked first,” G’jera laughed. She noticed Finn's expression and one eyebrow lifted fractionally. “He's inside with our . . . guest.” She nodded at Rose. “Who's your friend?”

Finn slung an arm over Rose's shoulders, and she swatted him away with a glare. “This is Rose. Basically a hero, no big deal. We gonna do this?”

G’jera gestured towards the interior of her ship. “This way.”

Finn and Rose walked up the ramp into the small freighter, Rose falling behind a few steps as Finn stomped ahead. G’jera grabbed her arm and pulled her to a halt.

“Something's going on between you two, right?” Rose turned her head sharply to look at G’jera, who smiled knowingly. “I know that look. He's not giving you trouble, is he?”

Rose glanced at Finn's back. “He's an idiot and he thinks of me as a sister,” she muttered. “Does that count as trouble?”

“Ah, the dreaded sister zone,” G’jera chuckled. “I have a foolproof method for getting around that.” She cupped her hand around Rose's ear and whispered, mouth widening into a grin.

“G’jera!” Rose said protestingly, cheeks flaming. She glanced again at Finn. “Does that actually work?”

Ylone waited silently inside the cargo hold, a serious-looking blaster rifle slung over his chest. He nodded to G’jera and moved aside to make room as the other three came inside. Finn held his arms open wide with a grin.

“Ylone, buddy!”

The tentacle-nosed creature looked at him with supreme indifference before turning to G’jera and saying something worried-sounding in his mushy language. Finn sniffed and made a face.

“I gotta say, you're really committed to the ambience in here. I'm getting all kinds of flashbacks to my last visit. When are you going to take the tracker off me?” he said, turning to G’jera.

“You never know when I might want to find you again,” she said with an outrageous wink. “Besides, you owe me a big favor, Cannon Fodder. This job turned out to be a lot more trouble than we anticipated.”

“What happened?” Finn asked, frowning. “You did bring Bossk, right?”

“Of course! Who do you think you're talking to?” G’jera said, throwing Finn a scathing look. “He didn't exactly want to come. We had to use our most persuasive tactics.”

Ylone opened an overhead compartment and an enormous, struggling body fell to the deck with a jarring thud. G’jera unclipped the blaster rifle from her back and leveled it at the writhing bounty hunter chief.

Bossk was an imposing sight, even trussed hand and foot and sprawled on the ground - over six feet of green-scaled Trandoshan, scarlet eyes gleaming with a feral light, curses hissing out from behind the muzzle.

G’jera stepped up to Bossk’s side, staring down at him with an implacable expression. She tapped his chest with the muzzle if her rifle. “These folks just want to talk. But if you make a move . . .” She held his gaze for a moment, then moved her blaster back against her shoulder and bent to remove the muzzle.

Bossk made no resistance, his eyes shifting from Finn to Rose and narrowing to slits.

“I don't know how much G’jera told you,” Finn began.

“We tried to brief him, but he was covered in slime and dangling upside-down from a cliff at the time,” G’jera said. “So you might want to remind him of a few of the details.”

“We're going to take down the First Order,” Rose said. “But we need your help.”

“First I want to know what's in it for me,” Bossk hissed. “I’m no bleeding-heart soft touch like these two sorry excuses for bounty hunters. I'm in it for cash, or I'm not in at all.”

Ylone said something that sounded scathing, and fired a blaster bolt that sizzled into the deck right next to Bossk's head.

“Don't push your luck with my quiet friend,” G'jera said, smiling thinly. “He had friends on that Sullust job. He's looking for a reason to take what you say personally.”

“There is something in it for you - for all the bounty hunters,” Finn said hastily, crouching down near Bossk's face. “And some risk, of course. But mostly riches.”

“I'm listening,” Bossk snarled, glaring up the barrel of Ylone's gun.

“You know Utrav IIV, right?” Finn said. “You were a prisoner there during the days of the Empire.”

Bossk said nothing, but his body stiffened and his pupils contracted until there was nothing left but red.

“I know you were there, because you're still famous at the academy. You escaped from the prison and survived on your own in the tunnels for over a month. When they found you, you were wandering around the lower levels of the academy. Nobody knows how you did it, even now.”

Bossk sneered. “Yeah, that was me. What about it?”

“Then you know how rich a prize Utrav IIV is,” Finn continued. “Whoever wins it away from the First Order will have a literal platinum mine at his disposal. I'm here to offer you a share of the profits. For your help.”

G’jera cocked her head curiously. “What's the catch?” she asked. “I’ve never heard of this Utrav place.”

Rose spoke up. “The surface of the planet is uninhabitable without a specialized containment suit, the facility is protected by an unbreakable security grid, and the mines are a maze.” She paused. “Does that about sum it up?” she said to Finn.

“Yeah, about,” Finn said. “I know it’s not going to be easy. But we can find our way through the mines with a guide - someone who survived and almost escaped.”

Bossk’s tongue flickered out from between his teeth. “Yeah, I know the mines.” His eyes narrowed even further. “But I'm never going back to that pit, reward or no reward. Nothing is worth that.”

“You'll help them,” G’jera said, her eyes glittering. “Win this score on behalf of the Guild, Bossk, or I'll do everyone a favor and shoot you down right here. You have one chance to regain your honor - don't waste it.”

“Just shoot me,” Bossk snarled. “Does this seem like a matter of honor to you, girl? Yes, I survived in hell, but do not ask me how. There are things that no sentient being should ever have to relive.” He gazed from face to face, and finally settled on Finn. “Consider what you are asking me, human. Do you know what it's like there? The endless nights of freezing, the days of baking as if inside an oven?”

“Yeah.” Finn's eyes were hard. “I know. And if I can go back, so can you.”

Bossk was silent for a long moment, his eyes narrowed on Finn's face. Then he spoke softly. “There's an opening from the mine into the academy that nobody knows about. In a supply closet in the west quadrant.”

“The west quadrant,” Finn repeated.

Something in his tone caught Rose's attention, and she glanced over to watch him sit back onto his haunches, eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“Is there something significant about that?” she asked.

Finn glanced at her and visibly shook himself out of thought. “No - it's not as close to the security depot as I'd like, but it's doable with a small team. Where is the opening exactly?”

Bossk let out a hissing laugh. “Not that easy, boy. I need security first.”

Rose stepped forward, holding out a data chip. “We've been authorized to offer you 50,000 credits as an advance. And of course you'll have a percentage of the platinum mine when the mission succeeds.”

“If I survive long enough to enjoy it.” Bossk snapped. “I want more than just money - I want a guarantee of my safety.” He nodded at Ylone and G’jera's stony faces. “I want to be kept on a Resistance ship until the time, and then I want to be on the surface of Utrav IIV with the advance team. Only then will I reveal the secret entrance.”

“Hold on. A minute ago you said you'd rather die than go back there.” Rose's eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What changed?”

“Those are my terms.” Bossk leaned his head back against the floor and closed his eyes. “Your decision.”

Neither Rose nor Ylone liked the idea, but they didn't have much choice. Rose stood next to the taciturn bounty hunter with her arms wrapped around herself, watching as Finn led Bossk onto their small landing craft.

“I'm not going to be able to sleep while he's on board,” she muttered. Ylone said something that sounded sympathetic.

They had been in hyperspace for three hours when Rose heard a soft sound coming from Finn’s bunk. Heinous images came into her mind - Bossk had worked his way loose, he was choking Finn to death - and she grabbed her blaster and ran down the hallway and into his room.

Finn was alone, and the choking noise she had heard were sobs. He sat on the edge of his bunk, face hidden in hands. He heard her come in and sat back, wiping at his wet face and avoiding her eyes.

She sank to her knees in front of him and grabbed him in a hug, and after a moment his hands wrapped around her torso, clinging desperately.

“I’m here - I'm here -” she murmured, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. “You're not alone, I promise.”

She wasn't really sure how it happened, but one of his hands migrated up to cup her face, and then he was kissing her.

He tasted of salt, just like the last time, and for a moment she lost herself in the warmth and sweetness. Then reality asserted itself and she stiffened, drawing away.

“You don't get to  _ do _ that!” she yelled, throwing him back. She jumped back to her feet and stared down at him, panting for breath. “Not while you're pining for Rey.”

His eyes were wide and his cheeks were flushed. “I'm not pining for her -”

“Then what?” She held his gaze, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “What did she do that was so awful? Save a helpless man's life?”

“It wasn't just that.” He shook his head. “She lied to me - to all of us.”

“Finn, people do things that they regret. Especially when they're in love.”

Finn shook his head. “It's not - she said she wasn't in love with him.”

Rose snorted. “She's that deep in denial? Trust me, I saw her face when she said his name. If that's not love, then I'm a womp rat.”

“How can she love him? Protect him? He's a  _ monster _ .”

“I don't know the answer to that.” Rose smiled sympathetically. “I don't even know if she knows. But she's Rey . . . I trust her to have a good reason.”

He sighed heavily, shaking his head. “You're a good person, Rose. I'm not sure I can ever see the light in people the way you do.”

Rose frowned. “Nobody is asking you to forget what the First Order and Kylo Ren have done. But if there's a chance that he could be brought to our side, don't you think she's right to fight for it?”

“I'm sorry, I don't think I'll ever be able to see him that way,” he muttered. “And I'm sorry about . . .” He dropped his gaze to her lips, then away. “That was a pretty selfish thing to do.”

“Next time, let's try that when we're not in the middle of a crisis,” Rose said, and turned to walk back to the cockpit. She touched her lips, which were still damp with his tears, and smiled a tiny smile.

_ I'll have to tell G’jera that her method really does work. _


End file.
